UNBREAK MY HEART
by GerrysJackie
Summary: Erik; brilliant, dark, lonely. Christine; smart, powerful, lonely. Their worlds collide; and despite Erik's efforts, it takes only hours to fall in love. Can she love him in return? E/C, modern.
1. Chapter 1

Hello my loyal readers and others who dare to explore my writings. This story is still in the writing stage, but I decided to start posting for the your sake so that I could get some feedback.

I hope you will enjoy my newest addition and will find it has uplifting as I find it as I write it. I will try my best to keep it real; but there are a few surprises in store (guest appearances by some familiar - though not _Phantom of the Opera_ - characters), so be on the look out for them.

Otherwise, enjoy it and I'll be popping in now and then with comments.

God bless.

UNBREAK MY HEART

(Quickly Comes the Fall)

A modern day work of fiction.

Featuring characters from Gaston Leroux's

_Phantom of the Opera_

Story line and original characters by

GerrysJackie

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

_Erik Dominik Miklos, 34:_ Gerard Butler

_Christine Drummond Chambers, 27:_ loosely based on Jennifer Lopez, a few years younger than she really is, voluptuous, average height (about 5'6"), topaz eyes.

_Delaney (Della) Giry, 42:_ Debra Messing

_Francoise Dubois, 49:_ Looks like Ralph Fiennes, slightly older with graying hair

_Raoul Chambers, 31_: Paul Walker

PROLOGUE

Marriage was supposed to be forever. It was that simple. At least that was what her mother had always said and Christine had grown up expecting that her life would be a mirror image of her parents life.

"Do you wish to press charges against him?"

That wasn't a question she had ever expected to hear concerning Raoul; but it no longer seemed strange in hindsight. She paused her thoughts for a brief moment, but she already knew her answer. Raoul would suffer far more by being alone in the world; exposed to reality without the nest egg her family had provided him over the last several years.

"No, he will soon learn the price he must pay for his deception and dishonesty." Christine didn't feel the twang of guilt that she had thought she would feel at the thought of Raoul's eminent demise, something she was most thankful for...she has fallen victim to his wiles for far too long.

She signed her name on the dotted line, feeling only the regret of lost years gone by. She would never get them back; Raoul had robbed her of those years as easily and as masterfully as he had robbed her in other ways.

She placed the pen back on the desk, and that quickly, without even the slightest glance back, Christine Drummond Chambers became Christine Drummond once again.

The middle-aged man who greeted her as she left the lawyer's office gave a slight nod of his slightly graying head, acknowledging her as the powerful woman that she was. He had watched her become that woman, loving her as the niece he had never had.

Her father would have been proud.

"The Board and everyone who is someone in Dallas, insists that you take a much needed and much deserved vacation."

She sighed and gave a compliant nod of her head. She was outnumbered once again, not a position she was unused to; but this time, she knew their intentions were only to keep her sane and happy.

"Okay Paul, but only because I know I can trust you to handle things while I'm gone." Christine replied, "You know he's going to put up a stand of some kind, are you ready?"

He sketched a devilish smile, eager to go to war with the young, arrogant, corporate-executive-want-to-be, Raoul Chambers.

"He's going to be the one reliving his days in elementary school when I'm done with him..." Paul promised, "...he'll go back there eagerly with the lessons we have in store for him, lessons you perfected, Ms. Drummond..." his smile was one of pride and deep affection, "...good job!"

Christine took a deep breath, hoping the next couple of weeks or so would cleanse her mind and lift her spirits. She hadn't done anything for herself since her parents had died...it was time.

She had come prepared for the trip, having decided to take a road trip South, heading to wherever her spirit led. She had packed light, and even though she would not have access to her accounts for several days, she had enough cash on which to get by.

The car she drove had been the first car her father had driven as a young man. He had kept it and restored it to it to the beauty of its glory days Christine had always wanted it, and taking it on this trip had seemed a way to connect – once again – with the father she missed desperately.

Paul gave her a last minute, booster-shot hug before watching her drive away. He would see to it that she had no worries while she was gone...no worries at all. Her father had been his best friend, and now he watched over his best buds daughter as if she were his own.

This was certainly going to be an interesting week coming up...and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

CHAPTER 1 – LATE AFTERNOON

Clouds wrestled overhead, fighting for supremacy with the sun; tumbling and rolling, appearing to have a life of their own. The day had been windy and chilly; one of the coldest on record for this part of Texas. Few ventured out, fearing the cold would somehow take up residence in their bones.

But one man stood against the gloomy backdrop of this January day; not even feeling the frigid fingers of the wind whipping at the hem of his wool, knee-length coat. In fact, he had felt nothing for weeks now; he was dead inside.

He had no more tears; no more pain digging at his heart…he was free of such weaknesses as pain, sorrow, and love. He was his own man, and nothing that had been thrust upon him in recent weeks would change that…nothing dared.

He angrily wrapped his arms around himself, trying to shield his tall frame from the cold sweep of wind that had suddenly arrived on the hillside. It struck him; the irony of it all. The wind was callous and frigid, much like his worthless heart.

A sardonic smirk settled over his sensuous mouth. What did he care? He didn't – and that was the cold, hard truth of it. He owed the world nothing and it offered the same in return.

His hard, blue/green glare landed on the marker in front of him and the chill of the wind seemed to suddenly settle in his soul; four years it had been…four long, lonely years. He had struggled desperately during those years, trying with everything that was in him to free his mind of that tragic night.

But even after all was said and done, the pain still tore at him; ate at him. He relived it every night when he closed his eyes; he could hear it; smell it; touch it. And every night he would wake up in sweat-drenched sheets, silently begging God to take his memories away so that he could have some peace.

But God had left him years ago; long before that wretched night four years ago. He no longer cared that Father Bennett prayed for him every night; he no longer cared that life had become a routine and there was no joy in his heart; he no longer cared that he had become a living nightmare.

Peyton and Paige tried; he'd give them that. Their bobbing heads of dark, golden blond hair; their warm, sable eyes, and the way their little faces lit up when he entered a room; he just didn't get it. For most of their lives, he had been distant and aloof, choosing to shut himself off from their expectant smiles and inviting, childish laughter. He wanted no more part of it; at least that's what he told himself. When he thought about it, it was really comical in its cruelty.

He, a man who had never entertained the idea of a family, had suddenly been given one. He, who had never known kindness or compassion as a child, was suddenly expected to harbor such emotions within him! A cosmic joke, that's what it was.

He wasn't about softness and warmth; he had been on his own for too long before being taught to understand the importance of structure and obedience. His keeper – if you could call him that – spared no time for such things as kind words and warm food; no time for a soft touch or gentle smile. Life was about structure, balance, and discipline; heaven forbid that there should be anything that resembled happiness.

He could still hear the raging voice of the man he knew only as Master. There was never anything but anger and bitterness in that voice; Erik could not remember a time when he had ever heard warmth or humor.

"Gregori…" Erik's hoarse whisper fell upon the frigid air like snowflakes; tears echoed in that raspy sound – unshed and unwanted, "…I hate you…does that make you happy wherever you are?" The words trailed off into a strained, spiteful confession, "I hate you."

Finding the force of his words truly frightening, Erik had to wonder when he had become such a jaded cynic. Sure, love had never been a part of his life; but he knew that Greg and Tess had cared about him – at least as much as he had allowed them to. He knew that Peyton and Paige were fond of him too; poor innocent things – they didn't know any better.

As for him, he had loved Greg and Tess with such fierceness; envying their love for each other as much as he longed for such love himself – knowing he longed in vain. When Peyton and Paige had come along, Erik couldn't imagine loving anyone more than he loved Greg and Tess; but these two tiny bundles of giggles and innocence had usurped their place in his heart and become the center of his world.

All that changed four years ago when the world he had so happily constructed, came crumbling down around him. Every day it was the same thing; he vented his rage at a world that had no meaning for him any more. He did his work – better than what was expected of him; escaped inside his few vices; music, drawing, boats, and motorcycles – effectively avoiding any real relationship with Peyton and Paige – out of fear, he supposed, more than anything else. He loved them so much it hurt…and so…he stayed away.

He was a product of his environment, and barely salvageable as far as humanity was concerned. He worked too hard and too much; had no social life and only a few people he would call friends; he had seen too much of the dark side of humanity to remember that there was a good side.

There had been many times throughout the years that Erik had wondered if he was supposed to have perished in the war-torn streets of his homeland; or perhaps he was to have meant his doom aboard the vessel upon which he'd been enslaved for five years. He speculated this often, actually. Why was he still here...why was he still here and Greg and Tess were gone?.

His eyes once again searched the cold stone markers that adorned the graves. Something inside him expected the headstones to talk back to him; to bellow about the injustice of it all. He waited in silence for the voices to come, but it only gave the wicked wind another chance to eat away at him. Pushing the tangled locks of his dark, neck-length hair away from his face so that he could feel the frigid death of it, Erik felt the bitterness seeping in and knew it was time to for all of this to end…if only it were that easy.

He stood up viciously and began pacing beside the gravesites. There was anger in his jerky movements; anger at himself for being so insufficient in so many ways; anger at Gregori and Tess for leaving him in such a precarious position; and anger at God for not taking him in the first place, and sparing Gregori and Tess. There were unrequited tears in his eyes; another source of anger to him, "Why!!?" he screamed, "Why did you have to leave me? I feel so…" he dropped back down on the bench, feeling worse than he had when he'd sat down the first time.

"…I feel so lost." It was barely a whisper.

The marker's lay beside each other, placing Gregori and Tess by each others side in death; just as they had been in life – inseparable. Who was he kidding? Such a sense of loss and loneliness swept over him and he knew he had been lying to himself for too long; the pains was still there – eating at him every minute of every day – he was unable to escape it. Drawing his fists together and slamming his eyes shut, Erik willed the pain to burrow deep, hidden from those who were close to him. No one would know that he feared dying alone; and worst of all, he feared living alone.

He just didn't see any way out of it, not for him.

The long walk back to the house was therapeutic and Erik needed the time alone with his thoughts. If he had taken a moment to examine himself, he would have realized that the heart he swore he didn't have was weighted down heavily in his chest. Perhaps he was more prone to the weakness of emotion because today was exactly four years since his brother and sister-in-law had been killed.

Well, at least they had been brothers in all ways except blood; but that hadn't mattered. For a boy of eight, the lanky thirteen year old had been the closest thing to a father figure since Dimitri Miklos had held Erik in his arms as a toddler of four. If Gregori hadn't been there, aboard that shipping vessel all those years ago...Erik shuddered at the thought of having never meant him.

But Gregori had made life bearable. He was older by five years and had been Erik's protector and friend; and when he had needed Erik to be there as his protector, Erik hadn't been. If only he could trade places with them both…

But he couldn't…and it tore him apart.

Despite the rain, there were a few other people bustling about; moving through it with determination. He was a dark, graceful shadow among them; had been for the majority of his life. His countenance bore little resemblance to the boy he had once been…before…

His anger flared; he wasn't going to think about the past and all the ways it had molded him into the man that he was. He would do his duty; be a guardian to his niece and nephew and try to do the right thing by them, and then perhaps he could find a way to die.

That thought bought a satisfied smirk to his face; after all, life was just a series of bumpy roads that all led to the bottomless pit of eternity. He had once believed there was something beautiful awaiting him when his life ended, but Master had banished all childhood hopes of a heaven for someone like him.

"_Heaven is for the beautiful people, you little monster, you have no hope of going there. You best accept your lot in life and know you are a spawn of the devil; and he takes care of his own." _

Erik had no idea how many times he had heard that in various forms, but it had been a mantra his foster father had repeated to him at least every day…if not more. If you hear something long enough, you begin to believe it; and Erik had passed that point long ago.

"_You were nothing but an ugly street rat when we found you…mulling about in the trash and muck. You should be thankful that I took you in, fed you, and gave you chance."_

The voices in his head often gave him horrible headaches; headaches that often caused him to double over with their force. It was during these times that he actually prayed for blessed silence. That was all he wanted really, just that....or someone who could take the noise of loneliness away.

He didn't remember getting into his car and driving the distance to his home, but before he knew it he was going around to the back and entering his house; hoping to avoid any small talk or childish antics until he could make it up to his study. He had no appetite, but Francois tried without fail to get him to sit down and eat something.

"I do not know how you manage to survive on what little you eat. If I did not know what a great chef I was, I'd have a complex by now."

The flabbergasted Frenchman was beside himself with confusion; he could not fathom a man of Erik's stature and age, not having an appetite; it was simply unheard of.

"Is it my cooking, Sir?" He asked, hands on his hips and brows arched in shocked disbelief at his own suggestion.

Erik only shook his head as he ascended up the stairs. To this day, he could not figure out why he surrounded himself with people who had senses of humor or a dramatic flair that just about drove him up a tree. They didn't seem at all intimidated by his black cynicism or lack of humor – which wasn't exactly accurate. Erik had a wonderful sense of humor, but somewhere between the pain of his past and loneliness that threatened to engulf him, it was diminished..

Francois smiled, shaking his head, "You are going to waste away before my very eyes and as I stand over you waving goodbye, you are going to wish you had eaten a little bit more."

Erik continued up the stairs without looking at Francois. After all these years, Erik still found it difficult to look at the man. Francoise was every inch the refined Frenchman; handsome, suave, and debonair. Even at forty-nine, the man was a charmer and had women falling all over him.

Every woman Erik had ever allowed into his life saw him as nothing other than a way to get their picture and name in the society page of the newspaper or some gossip column. He paid them to accompany him to social events, and they got their moment of fame…they both got what they wanted.

Sort of; Erik wanted more, but he dared not pursue it. In today's beauty driven world, Erik fell short, and he knew it. He didn't wait around to hear what the socialites he escorted around the state and country said about him; they would leave whatever function they had attended, he would drive her home, give a gentlemanly kiss to the hand, and that was that.

Half way through the following week, he would send them an elegant bouquet of orchids and a diamond bracelet, letting them know he appreciated their time. They never knew where he lived and they never got his phone number – not that any of them wanted that information to begin with – he was nothing to them. It was all very businesslike and tidy…

…and very lonely.

"Good night, Sir." Francois murmured as Erik topped the stairs.

"Good night, Francois…and tell Jacque good night for me."

Erik knew the man felt some sort of obligation to him, an obligation Erik neither wanted nor invited, but Francois and his son were part of his family, and Erik would do anything within his power to see that the man had all his wants and needs provided.

Family took care of their own.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the next one. Thank you all for your quick and wonderful reviews. I read each one and take them to heart when writing.

This will be a lighter story than most that I write. Erik's background is dismal, as usual, but he's a strong minded, charismatic person who is trying to overcome the obstacle that is himself.

Let's see how it's going...

UNBREAK MY HEART

CHAPTER 2, DAY 1, early Thursday evening

Christine wasn't your typical female. She feared little and seldom yielded to her softer side. Traveling alone hadn't seemed to bother her in the least until just about an hour ago. There hadn't been another soul on the road for hours and the trees were all starting to resemble tall, lanky monsters with long, stretching arms that were ready to snatch anything off the road if it even dared to venture off in any way. Everything was starting to look the same, especially after traveling for hours down one road without a change of scenery. To make matters worse, the sun was diving quickly behind dark, looming clouds that were promising more than just rain.

She'd already spoken numerous times to the Vice President of her company and there was no signal left on her phone. The antique, 1964 Volkswagon Bug that she drove putted up the road – seemingly without a care in the world. If there had been anyone else on the long stretch of highway, they would have thought her completely daft. Her mouth moved in an even speech pattern, and her hands often left the steering wheel to emphasize a rather important point she was trying to make….to herself. She often talked through difficult things – hearing her own thoughts on various matters.

The hours alone had only served to make her more angry at herself.

"I was such an idiot to believe he had changed!" She absently ran her finger along the smooth surface of her steering wheel, "I should have known he would do this!!"

She wasn't a fool, that she knew; but Raoul had managed to manipulate her in ways she would have never thought possible – on more than one occasion. He was truly a weakness for her and now she had to do something about it.

She'd never done this before; up and left without much planning. But she needed to put some real miles between her and Raoul Chambers. "Five years I gave that man...five whole, friggin' years!" Some of them had been joyous and full of fun and love; but all of that had changed two years ago.

_He's such a loser!_ Christine thought, her eyes curling into small slits as she imagined the many ways she could make him suffer.

"'You don't have what it takes to run the business, Sweetie; leave it in my capable hands and I'll see to it that your daddy's hard work pays off'…RIGHT!" Her mocking tone did a perfect rendition of Raoul's pleading whine. The man was a grade A, number one dirt-bag and she'd finally had enough.

"MEN!!" She shouted into the closed air around her.

Laughing at her own idiocy; she wondered when she was going to learn. She had given Raoul more than enough chances to prove himself over the years, and he had disappointed her every single time; but she had loved him through every rise and fall. Her heart didn't understand that he was self-centered and greedy; that he was as crooked as the day was long.

All her heart seemed to understood was that he only had to smile and she was lost in him. His god-like features and abundance of golden blond hair made her knees weak and her palms sweat. His corn-flower blue eyes were full of mischief and orneriness that made him come across as boyish and carefree. The entire package put together was difficult for any woman to resist and she had loved him since fifth grade.

"God give me the strength to carry this through..." she prayed, "...my heart is broken, but I won't let him destroy everything my daddy built."

Naturally, the skies chose that exact moment to let loose the rain they had been storing; the heavy pellets beat down upon the windshield making visibility almost impossible. To keep her nervousness from getting the best of her, Christine did the one thing she did best….she started to sing.

Turning the dial on the radio, hoping something would come out, all that greeted her was static - she had often begged her daddy to put in a state of the art sound system but he hadn't thought such things were as important as she had. Sighing deeply, she decided she didn't need the radio; she'd make her own music. With little effort, she began putting words and melodies together that were a mix of the known and unknown; hearing her own voice eased her flustered nerves and served to make her thoughts clearer. She would have to do this, but she didn't have to like it.

Slowing down to accommodate for the lack of visibility, Christine turned her wipers up a notch and prayed they did the trick. She trudged along, eventually stopping the car altogether and easing to the shoulder; "Just in case…" she laughed as the thoughts came out her mouth, "…the traffic becomes overwhelming and someone decides to sideswipe me."

Thrusting her head downward, Christine could not believe she had once again gotten herself into such a hopeless predicament. It had all started out as innocent as could be; Raoul had been the perfect man: attentive, affectionate, gorgeous, talented…I mean, what more could a girl want.

A harsh bark of laughter filled the air, and she refused to let tears pollute the decision she had made. In the end, Raoul had been full of nothing but ridicule and judgment; refusing to recognize that she was now his boss. He started undermining her authority and seducing the Board into thinking she was incapable of handling the responsibility her father had gifted her with; but she had been trained well, from the time she was old enough to understand and grasp numbers and business concepts.

She deserved better in a man, and she knew it; a man who appreciated her intelligence and wit as much as her womanly attributes. During the last year or so, she had taken to wearing pants a lot, burying her femininity beneath layers of unflattering, unisex clothing. It had driven Raoul crazy and had given her a measure of satisfaction.

The rain pounded harder and her heart beat louder, "I need to this..." She affirmed aloud, "…I will stay away for a couple of weeks; just long enough to make sure that all precautions are in place."

Turning her thoughts inward she rested her head against the steering wheel, listening to the rain pound against her tireless little car with great force. The rhythm lifted her spirits; giving her a chance to once again enjoy the different sounds of God's symphony.

The car had been an after thought, and one she refused to regret. When she had been younger, her dad would take the "bug" for a spin, allowing her to sit in his lap and help steer on the long stretches of highway between Dallas and the rest of the world. It was a piece of her past and a piece of her dad...it didn't seem right to venture out on a journey of discovery without it.

She missed her dad so much; just being in the car made her pain a little easier to bear. It had been her dad's best friend and business partner that encouraged her to take some time...

"_Get away Christine, somewhere he won't be apt to find you...at least not quickly. We'll see to it that your wishes are carried out and everything is returned to normal; or as close to normal as possible after what has happened."_

Paul Stanovich's words still sang in her head. He was the Chairman of the Board of Directors and a major shareholder. After the events of the past couple of years, Christine had relied on him a great deal to rally the other directors and shareholder's behind her, and he had managed to do so. Without them, she would have lost everything.

What an education she had gained in two years; and how wide her eyes had been opened. In order to prove her worth, she had become a shrewd businesswoman; a true mirror of her father's fastidious nature and no-nonsense approach to dealing with people and situations. She had earned the respect of men who had known her father personally, and had challenged him on choosing her as his heir; they now answered to her.

They had trusted Raoul too, especially after her father had pronounced him a new man. Then, he had quickly promoted a marriage between them, thinking Raoul would be the perfect compliment to Christine in business affairs and other things.

The first two years had been picturesque; but after that, he had been perfect in affairs, all right...three of them within a six month period; and then, he had begun to steal from her and forge documents. However, Christine was ignorant of his shenanigans at first, and more and more of her business decisions were left in his hands.

Holding true to his nature, two months ago she had found him in bed with _her_ secretary...how cliché. What hurt more than finding him with Angel was that he had made love to Christine the night before...hoping to spark some simmering embers that remained from their former passion for one another. However, afterward Christine had been more convinced than ever than they needed counseling...she felt cold inside after he had finished; used. He hadn't even cared about her needs.

Those events had opened her eyes to his true nature, and the investigation into his accounting practice and business investments followed. He still wasn't aware that his stealing had been discovered; he was still under the impression that every one was none the wiser about him. As for what he thought of her, she was just another pretty face and lacking in a business mind.

What Raoul didn't know, would end up biting him in the butt some day. Soon.

"_Look, I know I messed up, I get it, but don't you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me?"_ Raoul had pleaded once again, his warm blue eyes imploring her tender heart to dismiss the image in her head of him and Angel going at in hot and heavy on the couch in his office.

AGAIN…that's what it would be; she would be forgiving him AGAIN! No…she believed in second chances, everyone made mistakes, but he'd had his chance – more than one – and she wasn't giving out any more of them.

He thought she wasn't strong enough to go on without him? Was that it? Well, she didn't need the likes of him; and although the thought of divorce made her cringe; she could no longer live like this. The pain still strangled her, but she knew her parents would not have wanted her to spend her life with a man like Raoul, despite the fact that is had been her father 's prodding that had made the marriage a reality.

At the thought of her parents, Christine's heart lurched; they were gone and no amount of crying or pleading was going to bring them back. As darkness settled over the land and the rain let up, Christine returned to the road moving along as determinedly and slowly as she had been. According to her map, San Antonio was just ahead.

How long had she been driving?...Hours?....Days? She had completely lost track. It really didn't matter where she decided to go it would be a new start for her - in theory anyway - how much of a new start could one get in a few short days?

Raoul would probably find her, she had no doubt that he would try, but by then it would all be over.

As the rain came down harder, Christine had to squint her eyes to see through the tiny spaces between drops. This was ridiculous; she could not keep driving in this weather. The rain went from almost gone to gale force in a matter of minutes, and had not let up. Having given all that it had to give, her daddy's prized VW was heaving smoke from the engine compartment and her windshield wipers seemed to bend beneath the force of the rain; she had no choice but to pull over again. Pulling her cell phone out, she checked her signal and was dismayed to find that there still wasn't one. She flipped it closed and tossed it on the seat beside her.

_Figures. S_he thought.

In hindsight, she should have taken one of the newer vehicles....but she refused to dwell on decisions made.

The phone still had no signal and Christine was getting more perturbed with each hard, dousing drop that smacked the windshield. The weather was unbearable right now; cold and rainy with little hope of letting up for some time and she was stranded in the middle of south Texas with no knowledge of the area, a car that would get places faster if she pushed it, and no way of calling anyone – even _if_ she knew someone.

Having waited a good ten minutes for the rain to subside, Christine could wait no longer. She saw lights in the distance, indicating there was a house or building of some sort. She would make her way to it and hope she could find a phone that worked. She located a plastic bag on the floor in the back seat, compliments of her last visit to buy supplies, twisted her hair, and tucked it under the bag.

The rain was chilly as it cascaded down her face and drenched her clothing. It was a good thing that she wore a heavy sweat suit; perhaps the thick jersey material would keep the rain from fully saturating her entire body.

The lights guided her, and as she tracked her way toward them, she fought the ardent twist in her stomach that spoke of adventure and the unknown. She had no idea what awaited her beyond her next step, but she was eager to find out.

‡‡‡

"Who do you think she is, Peyton?" Paige asked, her big sable eyes widening even more as they continued to watch the woman trudge through the puddles of muddy water.

The boy shrugged his shoulders; his brow wrinkled in proper consternation as he considered an answer to his sister's question. He placed his hands on his hips as though he were lord of the manor and all within the four walls had to bow to his every whim.

"She looks disturbed." Peyton made his official diagnosis of the situation and then folded his arms over his chest to wait for affirmation. "She could be a ogre...or the witch that tried to eat Hansel and Gretel."

Paige nodded her agreement, although her affirmation was not exactly what he had been hoping for. She, too, crossed her arms over her chest and they both stood there at the window watching the silly woman.

"You children need to get away from the window." Delaney Giry instructed as she swept through the room cleaning any mess she could find before leaving. She loved them so much it hurt, but trying to be mother to them was becoming a chore. She stayed around just to make sure Erik didn't send them off to boarding school or totally ignore them, but she knew very little about being a mother.

"But Aunt Della, there's a strange woman coming toward the door." Peyton explained, trying to sound as important and commanding as his uncle.

"We think she's an ogre....or worse!" Paige countered, her eyes as big as saucers.

Della wasn't going for it, obviously. She lifted her brow and pursed her lips. Shaking her head, she walked away from them, mumbling about the intricate workings of a child's mind and other such nonsense.

As the woman came closer, she managed to slip in the drenched grass and land butt down; she lay there, sprawled out on the ground for a few moments before pulling herself to her feet. This, of course, sent Peyton and Paige into an absolute fit; they watched her trudge up the sidewalk, rain splashing and gushing from her soaked shoes, a plastic grocery bag over her hair to keep it from getting wet, and the heavy material of her clothes hanging off her like layers of old skin.

She banged on the front door, not caring that there was a very foreboding looking door knocker staring back at her from the middle of the door. Peyton and Paige were not allowed to answer the door, so they did the next best thing and stared at the woman through the window before they heard their uncle gliding toward them. With a harsh, silent command by way of a cocked forehead, he sent them running.

Christine lifted her muddy hand to pound on the door once more, but was stopped when it was flung open in anger. The male body that blocked the door was already turning from her as he spoke.

"You're late…which means that I'm late…" a deep, thundering voice growled, "…this does not bode well for future employment, but I haven't the time to call for another right now." Broad shoulders turned in the darkened hallway, still leaving Christine standing under the awning, wondering if the brief nod of his dark head was her okay to come in.

His abrupt tone and curt manners did little to put her in a more amiable mood. The man was literally walking away from her as he spoke, not bothering to explain himself or the situation as he went. Her biting retort froze on her tongue as she concluded he wouldn't care anyway.

"I need some assistance." Christine announced, ignoring him and addressing whoever else might be listening..

He stopped immediately, but did not turn toward her; his rigid back seemed to speak of irritation, frustration, or a mixture of the two. Thinking he deserved it for being so obnoxious and obviously having mistaken her for someone else, Christine tried to stand business-like and strong despite the dripping state of her clothing and the mud that stood poised to drip from the bag atop her head.

"Whatever assistance you require can wait, you have been hired to do a job and until it is done..." he paused for affect, "...nothing else matters."

With those curt words he moved on, her presence forgotten. Christine watched him retreat up the ornate staircase with haste, her eyes narrowing and her temper flaring. That man deserved a swift, verbal beat down, to say the least. He was quite possibly the rudest person she had ever met.

"Are you always this insufferable or did you save it all for little ol' me?" Christine countered loudly as he disappeared behind a large door. Her words didn't even cause a ripple in his step; she breathed a heated sigh, feeling as though she was back at her first board meeting when she had taken over the business. They had ignored her too, at first.

She threw her hands up in the air, standing alone in the large foyer. Was anyone around, "Hello?"

"May I take your..." an amused voice seemed to emerge from the walls before Christine caught sight of a distinguished looking, early middle-aged man whose eyes were fixed on the bedraggled bag formed to her head, "...hat."

He seemed on the verge of laughing and, with great restraint, he withheld; but not before Christine caught the teasing curve of his smile and returned it with her own, "I think I'll hold on to it, thank you; it was quite expensive."

"Undoubtedly." He responded with a twinkle in his eyes. He was still holding that quirky smile when another voice echoed from behind her.

"Francois, please see to it that the young lady is given clean clothes and allowed to shower should she wish." Christine turned toward the woman, meeting vibrant, green eyes, "The children are in the kitchen awaiting your instructions; they are eager to meet her."

Christine noticed that the attractive, auburn-haired woman was dressed in a long, regal evening gown of a soft peach color, with a beautiful lace shawl over her shoulders. She was elegant and refined, probably in her mid to late thirties, and had a glint in eyes that Christine could not quite place.

The handsome man who had answered the door, disappeared up the long staircase that Christine had noticed. Now that her eyes had adjusted, Christine noticed the finery of the furnishings surrounding her. The walls were adorned with various works of art and other pieces that added taste and refinement to them; they were a soft melon color enhanced by cherry wood accents and cherry wood floors. The house spoke of luxury without snobbishness and Christine sensed that if the walls could talk, they would attest to being taken care of.

"You _were_ aware this was an overnight job?" Her keen gaze swept over Christine's ragged appearance. Christine could only assume that the shocked, deer-in-the-headlights, look on her face answered that question.

The lovely woman smiled, "Well, that is neither here nor there...you may wear something of mine; Francois will show you to my room…" She paused and then called out in a light, commanding voice, "…Francois?" Then she left as silently as she had arrived.

Christine stood there gaping at the open air as though hoping it would swallow her whole; or that she would come out on the other end of a seemingly bottomless pit as had Alice in Wonderland. She hadn't had a chance to get a word in and she really wasn't sure anyone would have heard her had she tried.

Furrowing her brow, after finally processing what the regal woman had said...children? What children? The woman had mentioned children. Thinking she was probably mistaken and had not heard anything about children, she awaited Francois's return.

She didn't have to wait long; Francois returned with a towel in hand as well as various items for the shower. "I will show you to Miss Giry's room where you can pick out something to wear; the children will be going to bed shortly, so you needn't dress for much activity." Francois's mouth once again turned upward at the ends, as if he could not refrain from smiling. He led the way out the door, "follow me."

There was obviously no mistake, she was expected to watch over some children. What little experience she had with children had convinced her that she loved them...but she knew nothing about taking care of them. Perhaps she could do some magic, or a song and dance...

_...What am I, a circus act?_ She could almost laugh at the absurdity of it.

Christine followed, eager to get out of her mud covered, soaked clothing and wash herself with scented soaps and shampoo. She wasn't a "princess", but she did like some luxuries. She would wait and face the issues at hand as soon as she knew what they were...or who they were.

Francois opened a large door which revealed a beautiful, flowing room of yellows and greens. She made her way toward the middle of the room and stood, gazing at her surroundings. She was used to large, spacious rooms, but this one was decidedly feminine. Christine had never quite embraced her inner diva; choosing, instead, to try and become the son her father had never had.

"Ms. Giry instructed that you are to make yourself at home and use whatever suits you, Miss…" he lifted a manicured brow, awaiting a name.

"Drummond...Christine Drummond." Christine answered, hoping her father's name and legacy had no bearing in these parts. In Dallas, Arlington, Abilene and even Tyler and Houston; but San Antonio?...not likely.

He lifted an amused brow, and his lips quirked slightly, "Very well…" he bowed again, hiding his face from her, "…Ms. Drummond it is." He turned from her to exit the room, then turned around and shut the doors quietly; leaving her staring after him in complete wonder.

Christine drew in a long sigh, and began the task of finding something practical to wear before finding the large, elegant bathroom and showering.

‡‡‡

Shushing his sister with a finger to his lips, Peyton barely opened the door to Aunt Della's room. They had managed to escape Francois's doting eyes to spy on their house guest; even though they knew it would be frowned upon.

Entranced, they watched as she moved around the room like an angel; or at least they perceived her to be an angel. Her hair, lustrous and long, was as beautiful and shiny as black satin. It framed her exquisite features as perfectly as a crown would adorn her head, and only served to bring her natural beauty out even more.

"Who are you?" A small, feminine voice called out.

Christine startled and turned toward the cracked door, able to just make out a small frame filling the open slit.

_Ah…the children, I presume…_ Christine said to herself as she felt a smile crease her lips.

She knew she probably looked rather out of place to them. Unable to find anything that suited her taste in Ms. Giry's closet, Christine had gone exploring. Just up the stairs, she'd found a magnificent room that evoked masculine taste at its finest. She hadn't meant to be nosy or intrusive, but the room reminded her so much of her father in it's decor and coloring, that she couldn't resist looking around. She had found a fresh basket of clean clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed and before she knew it, she had donned one of the large, heavenly smelling T-shirts.

She knew that her actions might be considered rude or unconventional...but this evening had been anything but normal. She would be out of it before the owner found out anyway, she convinced herself. What did it matter? It smelled faintly of a man's aftershave...even though the fresh smell of the detergent had diminished it. She could get lost in that scent...and she was certain that the man who possessed it was the same man she had encountered earlier. She loved a good smelling man...even if he was rather rude and abrupt. Raoul had never worn aftershave or cologne; he had been allergic.

Anyway, she wore no shoes or socks, and had only run her fingers through her hair, thus creating an unruly cloud of raven locks around her face. She was certain she looked like some sort of illegal alien with her mother's honey-tinged skin and ink-colored hair, and the strange addition of her father's greenish/amber eyes and dark blond hair.

But they just stared at her as if in awe of something.

She gazed down at the door as the children inched their way in, "I'm Christine, who are you?"

"I'm Paige McGowen, and this is my twin brother Peyton."

Christine smiled again and lifted her hands, indicating for them to come closer so that she could better see them. They moved toward her, weary of a stranger in their home, but curious enough to pay little attention to the rules.

"Oh my…but you are two of the most beautiful children I have ever seen!" Christine exclaimed. "Your parents are blessed to have such lovely children."

Rather than respond immediately, they both stood with deadpan faces – not even a crease upon their foreheads. Finally, the little girl shrugged her small shoulders and stated flatly, "Our parents are dead."

Sensing they did not remember their parents, but felt their loss rather profoundly anyway, Christine felt an overwhelming sense of loss.

"I'm sorry…" her brow lifted questioningly, "...I take that the grumpy man I encountered earlier is your guardian?"

Paige's blond head nodded, a small smile touched her lips, "Uncle Erik…he's not always grumpy...." she offered, swaying back and forth to a melody only she could hear, "...sometimes he even sings to us." Her curls seemed to take on a life of their own as they bobbed up and down on her tiny shoulders.

Christine wondered again what her purpose was for being here...other than the obvious of course. Besides having wound up stranded and within walking distance, there seemed to be a higher Power at work here.

"Are you our new nanny?" Paige continued, without skipping a beat.

Both brows lifted and her mouth gaped. Okay...she hadn't quite expected that one. She wanted children, that much was a fact; but she had no experience with them. Christine breathed a deep sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. How was she going to get herself out of this one?

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

UNBREAK MY HEART

CHAPTER 3, DAY 1 – Late evening

The evening was full of surprises, not that Erik cared; he hated these boring awards banquets. He had chosen not to attend any of them, but Della had insisted that he attend this one – for reasons that had so far eluded him.

If he could have gotten away with it, he would have slipped out before dinner had ever been served and disappeared like all good recluses were supposed to do. However, Della would not have it; she had answered the invitation, ordered the tuxedo, and picked his menu items before he could utter a word of disapproval.

Infuriating woman; he should have never kept her on as his assistant. She was too smart for _his_ own good and didn't have the good graces to not read his mind; at least it seemed like she could read his mind.

"Oh, do stop frowning Erik, they're going to think you're not pleased to be here." Della stated, waving to other attendees hoping they wouldn't notice the dour look on her companion's face.

"I'm not." He responded, bluntly; sounding – for all intents and purposes – like a disgruntled six-year-old.. "Why _am_ I here?"

Her "duhhhh" stare drilled into him, "Even you can't be that obtuse…" she warned, "…why would I insist on you coming when I know you'd just as soon have a root canal?"

He almost shrugged his broad shoulders, which would have resulted in her preaching to him all the way home about how infantile he was being. No. Thank. You. Instead, he offered her a rather bland stare, which she obviously found equally as childish...so be it.

Her soft, refuting snicker made him lift a brow; waiting with baited breath for the explanation which was sure to come.

"You're getting an award, you nitwit; know just sit back and wait for it to happen."

He wasn't as stunned as one would think at the news; in fact, he seemed rather unmoved by it.. He scanned the room, seeing the faces of strangers he had no desire to make into friends and people who acted like they were his friends when, in fact, they were strangers to him.

They all talked about him behind his back; wrote untruths about him in their gossip columns, and speculated about his private life. On the rare occasions that he made public appearances, they would smile enthusiastically at him and practically salivate at the chance to interview him.

It crawled up his spine like a disease.

"I have tons of awards..." he stated with a good dose of sarcasm, before narrowing his eyes and growling through clenched teeth, "...now, can we go?"

He started to stand, pushing his chair back and bracing his arms on the table.

"…and it is my distinct honor to announce this year's winner of the Texas State Performing Arts Composer of the Year award, Mr. Erik Miklos."

The detached voice really meant nothing to him, but once Erik heard his name announced and the thundering applause pierced his ears, he recoiled inside. He would have to rise up out of his seat and step up to make some sort of ridiculous speech that would only spark unwanted interest in him, and anything he did or said.

How wonderful. _Beam me up, Scotty. _He thought, wishing transporters truly existed and he could disappear in an instant.

He shot a scathing look at Della and clinched his jaw; she had once again cornered him into being in the public eye, a talent she was adept at after twenty years.

She smiled, which did very little to ease his tumultuous thoughts, "You deserve it, Erik…" she said, clapping aloud like the rest of the audience. She pinned a narrowed gaze on him and smiled mischievously, "…now get up there."

۞۞۞

"That was the single most disastrous night of my adult life." Erik droned, cupping his forehead in his hand and massaging the aching temples with his strong, manicured fingers.

Della smirked in the darkened corner of the limo, not wanting to incite his anger any more than she already had; but she had to ride him just a little bit.

"You're such a big baby, Erik; why can't you just accept the fact that you are a tremendous composer?"

Silence stretched between them; Erik – always the consummate gentleman – had played his part well tonight, Della was aware of that. He had smiled; a plastered-on smile, but a smile nonetheless; he had charmed, even though he was not aware of it; and he looked devastatingly handsome, although he would emphatically disagree.

Dressed all in black from head to toe, he didn't blend into the night like he had hoped he would. His black tux, black shirt, and black shoes just seemed to make him that much more attractive. His dark hair caressed his features in inky waves and he had worn the black eye-patch; lending him a uncivilized, dangerous piratical look. Topping off the devastatingly alluring picture, was a golden dragon-topped black cane.

Weeks ago, when Della had given him no choice but to attend, he hadn't tried to find an escort for the banquet, but had immediately instructed her that she would be his "date" for the night. He despised the fake smiles and cold touches of the women who had to "pretend" to be happy by his side. It pained her that he assumed none of them were willingly there, pleased to be on the arm of such an affluent, brilliant man.

"After all our years together, I would think you would understand my need for privacy and seclusion, but you insist on dragging my ugly mug into the public eye just so you can have something to read in the gossip column of the newspaper tomorrow morning."

The sting of his words hit deep, but Della had a tough outer layer. He was like a brother to her, just as Gregori had been. They had formed an unbreakable alliance when they had all been thrown together; "adopted" by Master to help man the large shipping vessel that all but pirated the high seas.

She had been with Master three years before he threw Gregori and Erik into the small, cramped room they would share for the next few years. Erik had been eight, Gregori twelve, and she had been thirteen.

Even at the tender age of eight, Erik had carried himself with confidence and wisdom far beyond his years. His young eyes had seen more death and destruction than a human should ever have to see; his skinny, malnourished body had been used and abused in so many ways; twenty years later, Della wasn't sure she ever wanted to know the details of his past.

They had bonded immediately, and had been inseparable ever since. Gregori's death was hard on them both, but Erik took it hardest. He had lost so much in his young life and this had only made him more withdrawn and anti-social. Della had wanted to reach out and shelter him from the stabbing pain that she saw in his eyes.

"I understand very well Erik, and I am not going to argue with you right now; nothing I say seems to get through to you anyway." She calmly turned from him, "Some day some woman will come along and keep you straight; when she does, I will be there to say I told you so."

His loud "humph" let her know what he thought of her assessment, which only made her laugh aloud at the familiarity of the situation. He closed his eyes and allowed his dark head to lull back over the leather seat.

"I just want to be left alone." He murmured, allowing his tensed muscles to relax.

She moved from the seat across from him to sit directly beside him. She was careful not to touch him, but she leaned as close as she could.

"You're a liar, Erik Miklos; you do not _want _to be left alone; you just don't know any other way to be."

He stubbornly crossed his arms over his strong chest, refusing to open his eyes…there were times he truly hated her.

۞۞۞

She had never been around children before, not for any length of time, so this was an interesting journey to an unknown place. She found them delightful, actually; with their fresh faces lit up with smiles and their guileless eyes watching her in wonder.

Francois had prepared tiny little snacks for them, and they had insisted she try some. Afterwards, they had played a rousing game of Jenga; but all too soon it was bedtime, and Christine observed them do their nightly routine – brushing their teeth, washing their faces, and picking out a book to read.

"This one, Ms. Christine…this is our very favorite!!" Peyton announced with great enthusiasm.

Christine giggled at his fervor, but eagerly retrieved the book from his hand.

"_Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang_! Wow, this is one of my favorite's too…but I love the movie best."

They looked at her with odd frowns, and she knew they had never even heard that there was a movie.

"Uncle Erik insists that we read often and not watch too much T.V." Paige explained, "He thinks TV will warp our brains."

Christine was stifling her giggle, the serious look on their little faces only adding more humor to the moment. She was finding the conversation stimulating and the company charming. "Well, that could be, but Disney movies are the best!...and this one is a musical on top of being a beautiful movie."

Paige's face was glowing at the mention of music, "I love music…" she said, "…Uncle Erik does too."

"Yeah, he used to sing to us all the time, while Mommy and Daddy were here. But now, he only sings when we beg him to."

She couldn't imagine what would cause a person to give up singing, but she didn't question it.

"Well, since I'm here tonight, I'll sing for you…" She gathered them closer, gently brushing their blond, wavy hair from their faces and whispered, "Close your eyes. This song is from the movie_, Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang_."

The children leaned against her and she sang …

"_A gentle breeze from Hushabye_ _Mountain  
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay.  
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting--  
Waiting to sail your worries away."_

She tucked them both into their beds as she continued to sing.

"_It isn't far to Hushabye_ _Mountain  
And your boat waits down by the key.  
The winds of night so softly are sighing--  
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea."_

After tucking them in, she placed a kiss on each forehead, and quietly stood at the doorway and finished the song.

"_So close your eyes on Hushabye_ _Mountain.  
Wave good-bye to cares of the day.  
And watch your boat from Hushabye_ _Mountain  
Sail far away from lullaby bay."***_

_*****Song is "Hushabye**_ _**Mountain**_" _**from the movie "Chitty, Chitty, Bang-Bang", lyrics by the Sherman**_ _**Brothers**_

She felt pretty good about herself, she had little experience with kids…okay, she had NO experience with kids, but she had managed to get them to bed on time and make sure their nightly routine went fairly smoothly; she patted herself on the back, and headed back downstairs.

Francois pursed his lips and frowned, gazing interestingly at her choice of attire.

"Ms. Drummond, you may sleep in the nanny's room right down the hall on the left, it has a private bath and your things..." he said with a lifted brow, still holding back a full-fledged smile, "...have been laundered and placed in there…" he bowed again, making Christine feel like royalty, "…I bid you good night."

Now, she would wait on the man and his mistress to return from their date so she could talk to them about her car. Maybe arrangements could be made in the morning to have it picked up and taken to a garage for repairs…but until her accounts were unlocked, she had very little money and she had closed her credit card accounts because Raoul was on them.

Oh yeah, this was going to be a lot of fun.

۞۞۞

Having said all he had to say, Erik exited the vehicle quickly and made his way into the house. Della scooped up the award he had won and proceeded to leave in the car, and leisurely followed, keeping a distant pace.

Silently, he moved up the stairs toward his bedroom, his thoughts were a million miles away. Della watched from the bottom, noting how elegant and graceful he was despite the slight limp…he still managed to make her heart skip a beat some of the time; between his dark, rugged handsomeness; his strong, sculpted body, and the sheer magnitude of his talents and brilliance…he was a gorgeous man.

She smiled as he opened his bedroom door and started to enter his room, "I'll just put this in the family room then." Della said, lifting the award statue in her right hand.

He passively stared down at her with little care, "You do that; or put it in your room for all I care....I'm going to bed."

He could hear her laugh as he shut the door…pushing his foul mood even deeper. He hated being exposed to the public in any manner and it seemed that Della thrived on making him feel the fool…oh yeah, there were times he couldn't remember why he cared for her so much.

It was late, well after midnight, when Erik entered and began pacing the floor of his bedroom; wondering why energy was pulsing through him like an independent life form.

Why did she put up with him…why did any of them put up with him? I was beyond his understanding. Some day soon he was going to get what was coming to him; he just prayed no one was around to watch him fall.

Sleep was and always had been elusive in the wee hours of the night, and tonight was no exception. His body always demanded some sort of respite from the fatigue and depression that often plagued him but, try as he might, he could not manage more than a couple hours of tossing and turning at some point. Peace was something he had never achieved and sleep only made the nightmares surface.

So, needless to say, he often spent many a sleepless night in his studio writing the lyrics and score to a new song or drawing the beauty that always shimmered beneath the darkness in his life. He derived something akin to joy from spending the hours creating; and despite the lack of sleep, he relished it. He was used to it; but he was certain that, as he got older, the effects on his body would continue to mount.

_Great..._ he thought ._...another side affect of aging to look forward to...wonderful._

An exasperated sigh and a role of his eyes were the only indications that his thoughts were wandering far from the task at hand. With more disgust than he intended, he tossed the sketching pencil from his hand, turned from the easel, and rubbed his tired eyes. He only had images in his head to go on, but he had been trying for months to put them on paper; the faces of his mother and father always seemed present somewhere in his furthest and oldest memories, and he needed them to surface.

A glance at his watch forced him to try and yield one more time to the pull of sleep. He shook that thought aside for the moment, preferring to look in on the children. Their sweet, tranquil little faces often did him the most good when he was suffering the idle hours alone. As they slept, he often watched over them, lending them the attention he often denied them during their waking hours; for reasons he wasn't even sure _he_ understood.

The silence of the house echoed the emptiness in his heart; an emptiness he knew he had forced upon himself, but it was a necessary evil for one such as he. His guarded heart and walled emotions didn't bode well with relationships, but they had never done right by him anyhow; so he protected himself by distancing himself.

Finding their room, he gently pushed the door open and padded on bare feet toward Paige's bed. Even in the secluded glow of the night-light, he could she that was the mirror image of Gregori; a fact that had his heart twisting in his chest. How much their father had loved them and they had been robbed of him at such an early age. Tears poured down his face, an outward sign of his inner turmoil that he never allowed anyone to see...he had to be strong for those around him...he had to be. The image of his slain parents and the searing grief that had ripped through him at the brutal scene and for years afterward, tried to pound away at his stubborn will; but Erik refused to give in - they had no place in his life now – he was a big boy.

Peyton, although his hair was a slightly different shade, was also a mirror image of Gregori. Erik softly caressed the boy's cheek, baring his soul to the moonlit shadows of the room; he hoped they both knew how much he loved them because he wasn't sure he would ever be able to tell them.

He sank into the small chair between their beds, and crossed his long legs. He listened to the gentle lull of their breathing, and felt his own body adjust. Before long he drifted to the floor and turned on this side. Adjusting his long legs by drawing them up in a folded position, Erik placed his hands beneath his cheek, using them as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

He was asleep in minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

UNBREAK MY HEART

CHAPTER 4, Day 2 - early...early...early morning

After waiting for hours for them to return, Christine had finally gone to bed. It seemed like only minutes later when Christine, usually a light sleeper and easily roused, could have sworn she heard footsteps upstairs. She wasn't really familiar with the house at all, but she had been up there to tuck the children into bed. She threw the covers off and pulled herself out of the comfort of the bed.

Hardly giving her skimpy wardrobe a second thought, Christine determinedly shoved through the darkened house, headed toward the stairs. She knew her room was almost directly beneath the children's room, so she quietly made her way up, hoping she didn't encounter a squeaky board in the floor or see some slinky creature that would cause her to screech like a banshee.

_Oh come on! You've faced down an angry Board of Directors, debated vehemently with vendors over pricing and availability.... _She mentally reminded herself, _...don't curl up like some sissy over a few creepy-crawleys._

Furrowing her brow as she continued to give herself a pep-talk, she noticed the door was slightly ajar, something she found rather disturbing since she had closed it behind her when she had left the children's room earlier that night. The glimmering light cast shadows on the wall, but she was able to see well enough to creep toward the beds.

Both children were sleeping soundly, neither of them looking as though they had left their bed since she had tucked them in. She looked first at Paige, making sure she was okay, and then she moved over to Peyton...

....that was when she saw the dark figure lying on the floor.

Many a woman would choose such a time to scream at the top of her lungs, not Christine. She crossed her arms over her chest and assessed the situation with strategy. Was he trying to hide there, awaiting the perfect opportunity to pounce on the children and kid-nap them, or was he injured....why was he just lying there?

Drawing in long, easing breaths to keep herself grounded, Christine could feel the coiled preparedness of her trained muscles. She knew self-defense, was pretty certain she could handle herself respectively in a hand-to-hand combat situation. She needed to confront him head-on and distract his attention away from the children.

She eased closer, confused by his stillness. He was probably playing possum, a very real possibility from her prospective, so she remained alert and ready for attack. The closer she drew the more she was convinced he was no ordinary burglar, but a kidnapper, child molester, or some other despicable hoodlum.

With her next step, he stirred; turning onto his stomach with a quiet, satisfied hum. Fury welled within her at the thought of such a monster preying on anyone.

Not on her watch.

۞۞۞

At first, he thought he was dreaming, but when Erik heard the soft footfalls headed toward him, he was immediately alert. After a few moments passed, Erik turned to his stomach, making enough noise to hopefully ward off the attacker; he had no desire to enter into a physical altercation of any sort.

Not eager to get himself shot, he kept his eyes mostly closed, although he doubted that anyone could see well enough in the subdued lighting to tell if his eyes were open or shut. His mind reeled, pushing images through it of his enemies; those he determined to be dumb enough to pull such a stunt; but before he could decipher a list of suspects, he found himself under attack.

It wasn't that the weight upon him was significant, or even note-worthy; it was that his hands were suddenly pinned behind his back painfully. The hold was as certain as a vice and no less constricting; what was the most disturbing was the feminine scent of his attacker. The man in him reacted in two ways.

_**One.**_ He was felled by a woman. That was a jolt to any red-blooded, fully-functioning man. If he hadn't already been convinced he was less than a man, he would have been certain of it now.

However...and this brought him conveniently to...

_**Two. **_He _was_ a man for all intents and purposes, and the feel of her sitting astride his back with her very strong, sweet-smelling legs pinning him down sent his hormones into over-drive; if that wasn't bad enough, her long hair was hanging down, brushing against the surface of his exposed cheek. The scent of it permeating his senses. He could bear it no more, the feel of her atop him...he had the opportunity to finally feel a woman beneath him...and he took it.

She was as light as a feather, so he had no problem bumping her off his back with one hard buck. Her hold faltered for a brief time, giving him enough time to wrestle her beneath him, aware that his body was reacting in a very obvious way to her luscious curves. He was careful not to let her know how much she was affecting him, but he wasn't about to let her go either.

Her squirming softness only made matters worse, and Erik had to stifle a groan before dragging himself and her to a standing position; he had her now, his hands were wound around her waist, pinning her arms and fastening her back flat against his stomach.

"Well, what do we have here?" His darkly sensuous voice whispered in her ear. "If you're not the Tooth Fairy or some other kind of Fae creature, then you picked the wrong house to break into tonight, Tinkerbell..."

Christine wasn't listening, her fight-or-flight mode had kicked in and she had never run from a fight in her life – she butted her head back against his chin, catching him full in the mouth. Then, for added effect, she whirled around, bringing his arm with her, and twisting it into a painful position behind him. Her foot connected with his thigh, effectively sending him to the floor in severe pain. He felt a hard, solid thud against the back of his head, and all he saw after that was darkness.

Christine released his arm as his broad shouldered frame sank to the floor, hitting it rather loudly with a thud. She had seen a jump rope lying in the toy box just on the other side of the room, so she went and retrieved it quite quickly. She drew both of his thick arms behind his back and tied them securely, feeling good about herself. As if on cue, both children shot up out of their beds and rubbed their eyes, not sure what to expect. Christine ran to Paige's side, pulling the young girl to her.

"It's okay, little ones, I don't know what he wanted, but I have managed to down him until the police can be called."

Peyton hurried from his bed and turned on the light, bathing the room in bright light. Paige looked down at the large man on the floor, his slight groan caused her large eyes to saucer and she jumped from Christine's lap to kneel beside the fallen man.

"Uncle Erik...what happened?"

۞۞۞

Feeling humiliated at having been so wrapped up in the feel of a woman beneath him that he lost his concentration, Erik didn't have the means to respond to his niece. His head was pounding from the blow it had taken and his arms hurt like crazy; not to mention the throbbing in his tortured thigh. But when he felt her tender, tiny hand resting upon his scarred cheek, and glanced up to see the heart-wrenching concern coming forth from her dark eyes, for a moment, his heart stopped beating. It was the first time he had ever allowed himself the luxury of seeing how much his children...Gregori's children...loved him.

What had he ever done to deserve it?

"Uncle Erik?"

Christine felt the color drain from her face and her heart was threatening to jump out of her chest. What had she done? She scurried to the man's side, only wanting to lend him some sort of assistance; but he jerked away from her. Understanding his resistance, she tried again, only to be meant by a venomous growl.

"Don't touch me!"

Christine bolted away, but quickly recovered, once again hovering close. "I only wish to undo the restraints...had I known it was you...."

"I don't need any help from you." His words were caustic and final, dismissing her entirely.

Christine watched as he literally maneuvered the ropes around until his hands were free...she had no idea how he did it. He had yet to pull his hair back from his face and look at her – but she could feel the seething anger that stemmed from him; anger that seemed to fold back upon himself.

"I'm so sorry...all I heard was a noise above me..." Christine tried to explain, "...I was sleeping in the room beneath this one and I heard footsteps...." She stumbled and stuttered through her words, her hands and arms flaying about, trying to emphasis her meaning, "...I'm really sorry."

His head lifted, sending his dark hair away from his features. For the first time, Christine caught a glimpse of the man behind the mystery. He stared boldly into her eyes, daring her to scream at the scar that coursed through the right side of his face, dissecting his eyebrow and marring the otherwise flawless features.

He looked up at her through eyes the color of tumultuous waters, rolling with the force of the storm; flashing equally between blue and green and settling on a warm, sensuous teal. The face that held those eyes was remarkable; an even mix of sultry, savage beast and beautiful, potent man. At this moment, both eyes and features regarded her with something akin to hatred, banked with a healthy dose of curious interest.

He said nothing as he carefully pulled himself to his feet, favoring the thigh where she had kicked him. He walked about ten feet before dizziness seemed to claim him and he leaned his shoulder against the wall, eventually sinking to the floor. Both children were at his side in an instant, trying to console him. Feeling awful about hurting him, Christine once more approached him, but he recoiled from her as though her touch would cause him more pain.

"I said don't touch me." He hissed, unprepared to yield any control to this woman who seemed intent on destroying him.

"Look, you can be as stubborn and unrelenting as you want...it isn't going to stop me from making sure you're alright." There was more bravado in her tone than she actually felt...she could have really hurt his man. "Let me see your eyes, I need to make sure I didn't cause a concussion." She instructed, expecting him to concur.

He did not; he rubbed the thigh she had kicked and continued to sit. Paige came up behind him and leaned over his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently swaying, as though to rock him to sleep. The scene was oddly poignant, despite the absurdity of it.

"I'm very...."

"Since you insist on speaking....who are you?" He asked, interrupting her apology. There was no accusing tone; no rudeness like earlier, just a strangled sense of curiosity. Even through the cloud of pain she heard, his voice was like pure silk running down her spine...she could listen to him speak all day, every day, and never tire of it.

Clearing her throat, she introduced herself.

"I'm Christine Drummond; you mistook me for a baby-sitter when I came to your door last night."

Putting a long, manicured finger to his forehead, Erik turned it in small, decisive circles, hoping to release the pressure that was building with each thought he formed in his head. Did she say mistaken? He had _mistaken_ her for the baby-sitter?

What a night this was turning out to be.

Paige's slender arms around his neck lent him an odd sense of security in a situation that had gone completely over the deep end. He unleashed her small hands from in front of his throat, stood up and made his way toward the door. One hand still held the back of his neck, trying to ease the corded tension; the other pressed against the injured thigh for support.

Sighing deeply, resolving to be a little less abrasive, Erik once again took a long, drugging look at her. She was a beautiful thing....curvaceous and pleasantly plush in all the right places. His body immediately hardened as he remembered her legs wrapped around him so tightly; it had been... invigorating. Her topaz eyes were enough to make him feel drunk in her presence, and it was all he could do to not give into the intrinsic need to bury his hands in her thick spray of caramel colored hair.

This was NOT where he needed to be.

"Little can be done tonight..." he finally said, running his hand through his dark, delightfully unruly hair, "...if you will follow me to the library, I'll see that you are paid for your services."

He left the room, thinking the subject closed simply because he willed it to be so; leaving her to stew in her own emotions. There was embarrassment in the way he carried himself, but he did not turn and humiliate her, which she found quite curious. He favored his right thigh, the one she had attacked, and it only took a moment for her to remember the limp she had noticed earlier in the evening.

Okay, now she felt really bad.

She was certain that if he had wanted to he could have hurt her badly; he he appeared to be incredibly strong. Her hands had gripped his upper arms as he had wrestled her beneath him, and the muscles contained there had been toned, tight, and nicely defined. Why she remembered that interesting tidbit of information, was beyond her.

Paige and Peyton watched her head toward the door; her shoulders sagging as though she was heading for the executioners block.

There was no sign of him in the hallway, so she headed toward the stairway, pleasantly surprised to find him sitting on the stairs petting a calico cat who was obviously eating up every moment of his affections. She quietly stood in background and watched him scoop the animal into his arms and pull her close to his chest.

Christine could not see his face, but she heard his melodious voice purring at the cat in a soothing, gentle manner that would have calmed a raging storm. She felt herself melting in its warmth, wishing he was whispering in her ear as he was the cat's. He both excited and exasperated her...an odd place to be in Christine's world. She had yet to get a good look at the man, but if his voice was any indication of the way he looked, and his hard, muscled arms were any indication of his body's beauty...he was a man she wanted to get to know better.

By the rigid setting his back suddenly took, she could only guess he had become aware of her presence behind him. He gently rested the cat on her feet and stood up, moving as smoothly and elegantly as water. She was drawn to the limp on his right leg, finding it odd that it in no way hindered his natural grace; in truth, it lent him a bit of vulnerability that made her want to kiss the pain away; especially since she had added to it.

He silently finished descending the stairs, led her down a rather ornate hallway and entered a large, masculine room. He made his way to the large oak desk in the corner and opened a large, leather-bound book. He pulled it open and retrieved two, crisp one hundred dollar bills. When he turned, Christine was behind him, and he immediately directed her gaze away from his face by handing her the money.

Making small talk, especially with women, had never been one of Erik's strong points. What he lacked in looks and personality he more than made up for in bad temperament; so quelling the need to lash out, Erik swallowed the blathering words that were lodged on the end of his tongue, caged the rush of lust he felt, and held his voice in an even tone.

"Forgive me for jumping to the conclusion that you were the new nanny that had been sent over, I was in a bit of a rush when you arrived." He had turned from her again, and was headed toward the large bay window that made the room feel so open and inviting. When next he spoke, his voice was laced with a hint of self-mocking amusement, "I am also sorry that I frightened you a few moments ago in the children's room, usually that happens _after_ a woman sees my face, not before."

_He_ was apologizing to _her? _How odd..

She smiled broadly at this words, thinking he was surely joking; but soon, she realized that he had not meant them to be a joke. He was quite serious. Apparently very self-conscious about his scars, he had kept his face turned from her since entering the large room.

"You should get some rest, Mrs. Drummond; you can leave in the morning." He stated, apparently used to being obeyed.

Being a woman that appreciated masculine perfection, she caught a good look at his left profile and almost melted from the intense heat that settled in her. Having seen his face, she had to admit he was certainly drool-worthy – but his profile afforded her a good look at the things she had missed.. She already knew his hair was a deep, rich coffee brown – borderline black – with soft waves playing in it; she already knew he was well-built and smelled wonderful....oh yes! How could she forget how he had smelled pressed against her as he had been? His was a seductive, predatory male scent; so completely different from...what was his name? How could she forget his name...Raoul! That was it...Raoul.

Now, having seen his profile, she could add long wings of dark lashes over his unseen eyes; a straight, patrician nose, a sculptured jawline and shadowed cheek bones to his growing list of qualities. He made her want to nestle against his hard chest, bury her face in his neck, and taste him on her tongue.

_This is ridiculous, I don't even know the man and already I'm practically in bed with him! Besides, I'm not even sure I like him... _Christine chastised herself, ..._but good golly! He makes me think about... _Christine frowned at her thoughts, _...nope, I won't think about that!_

The last few times that Raoul had initiated sex with her, it had been mechanical and unsatisfactory, at least as far as she was concerned. He never wanted anything different, just the same old boring position for the same boring amount of time...until _he_ was finished. She was always left unfulfilled...always.

Just as quickly as she had seen his profile, it was gone, and he was standing with his back to her gazing into the star-lit night sky. She had the feeling of intense loneliness wash over her, making her heart ache for him for reasons she didn't understand. She felt inexplicably drawn to him in ways she had never experienced before; it was as though his soul cried out to hers.

"By the way, Mr. Miklos, It's _Ms_. Drummond, I'm divorced..." she stated with pride "...and I can't leave in the morning." There, she'd make him stew in it for a while, "Good night."

She spun on her heels and left, not giving him a chance to question her. When she arose in a few hours and had to make small talk with him, she would explain her predicament to him and hope he had some way of fixing her car; otherwise, she had no idea what she was going to do.

۞۞۞

His body was still relentlessly reacting to the feel of her beneath him; not giving him a moments peace as he stood there contemplating the cosmos. What a joke it was; his being attracted to her. She wasn't even the kind of woman he would have thought he would find attractive. Normally, his eyes found the tallest, most slender figure in the room and admired her. It wasn't like he would ever act on any of his instincts, he just liked to look. They were all beyond his reach and he knew it. But the tall, leggy blond types had always drawn his attention.

Christine...he loved the crisp, cool feel of her name on his tongue. She was luscious curves, cream-colored skin, and fascinating eyes nicely displayed in a rather small package. She couldn't be more than five feet, six inches tall at most, and her dark, rich caramel-colored hair just seemed to beckon his fingers to tunnel through its softness and bury his nose in it – owning her scent.

She had to leave – tomorrow – he couldn't handle her being around for too long. He would eventually do something asinine and she would tear his heart out of his chest. He vaguely remembered her saying something about a divorce coming in the morning?...no that didn't make any sense...he wrinkled his brow in concentration, trying to recall her words. He could beat himself silly for not listening to her; instead, he had been trying to keep his growing interest in her hidden....in whatever way he could.

And was that _his_ T-shirt she had been wearing? It couldn't have been. Why would she have one of his T-shirts? His brow furrowed and he shook his head in disgust; it hurt too much to think so hard right now. He turned from the window and made his way back up stairs, what was he going to do for the remainder of the night? If he'd had trouble sleeping before he was aware of her being in the house, than he certainly was going to have trouble sleeping now.

He headed into this bedroom and changed into a jogging suit; turning out the light in this suite, he headed toward the studio for a work-out. He needed to sweat her smell off his skin and work himself to exhaustion so that his sleep – when it finally came - would be empty and dreamless.

One could only hope.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone! There is a good response to this story, for which I am most grateful. Thank you for your reviews and the kind words, as well as the constructive criticism I am always grateful to get.

Happy, blessed Easter to my wonderful readers.

Anyway, on we go.

CHAPTER 5, Day 2 – five long hours later...

Enjoying the quiet that was his dining table, Erik relaxed with a frown upon his features and a piece of half-eaten toast in front of him. The silence he treasured was soon to come to an abrupt and perky end.

"Good morning everyone." She chirped, gliding into the room with all the morning cheerfullness of a young foal on a crisp winter morning.

_Perfect!_ Erik silently exclaimed with a large heap of sarcasm. _She's a morning person on top of everything else...kill me now!_

Erik sat at the table brooding over his cooling cup of coffee, feeling like the primordial ooze that floats atop the water in the bayou that was hidden in the trees about a mile behind his house. She still wore the T-shirt, not even trying to hide it anymore...but now she had adorned a pair of shapeless sweat pants; _still,_ Erik thought, _she looks stunning_. Seeing her in his shirt did strange things to his body – inside and out – did she know it was his? Most likely not, or she would have thrown it from her as though it were contaminated.

Frowning, he pushed any warm, fuzzy thoughts from his mind; pulling a doleful mask over what he feared had been a hopeful expression. HIS woman wearing HIS shirt had always been a fantasy of his, but that is exactly what it would remain, a fantasy.

She looked like she had slept a full eight hours; her eyes sparkling and her face fresh and glowing. It was enough to make Erik want to pluck out his one good eye. He had decided that seeing his face and looking into his eyes was what she needed most if he had any hopes of ridding himself of her disturbingly attractive presence. She had seen him only in the dimming light last night and had not blanched at all, perhaps she needed a reminder in the broad, exposing light of day. He lifted his eyes, daring her to see him in all his ghoulish glory...that would make her day.

Instead of gaping at him in horror, the obviously disturbed Christine smiled brightly at his mulish expression. She seemed to be annoyingly immune to his foul mood – a fact that grated against his otherwise impeccable armor of self-disgust. Driven by some innate need to help her see what he truly was, Erik's brows arched upwards, daring her to outwardly display the antipathy she harbored within.

Still, she chose to counter his dark mood with her sunny smile, leaving Erik to bask under his own cloud of darkness. He moved his eyes from Ms. Drummond only to find Peyton and Paige smiling at her as disgustingly sweet as she was now looking at them.

"Good morning, Miss Christine." The children chimed in unison.

All eyes turned to him, expecting some sort of response; but Erik was trying to hide his dismay at her complete lack of shock upon seeing his face. Maybe she didn't see him either way...perhaps she was indifferent toward him. What a fool he was. Just because she affected him in a special way did not mean that he had the same affect on her.

"Morning." He murmured, feeling even lower than primordial ooze – he was the scum they scraped off their shoes.

"Good morning everyone...good morning Christine." Ms. Giry floated elegantly into the chair next to Christine and helped herself to a couple of pancakes.

Christine noticed that Erik didn't even glance up at her; instead, his head was now buried in the morning paper. Frowning, Christine wanted nothing more than to throw him to the floor and knock some sense into him. Last night he had taken the stunning Della out and stayed out very late. Christine could only guess what they had been doing, but she felt sorry for the woman upon his complete disinterest in her come the break of morning.

It was enough to ruffle Christine's feathers; however, she could not hide her absolute appreciation for the man in front of her. His features were all that she would have expected them to be; his eyes were still stunning; his mouth was magnificent – full, masculine lips that seemed to beg for kisses – and a slight dimple in his chin. The scar that he seemed so focused on, gave him a primitive, piratical look that only served to heat her blood to dangerous levels. He was truly magnificent.

She could easily lose herself in this man if given the opportunity; he was a sensual study on rough, masculine beauty; not pretty or feminine in any way, but the sheer personification of manhood. The feel of him against her last night had been a pleasant distraction, as well as the gentleness with which he had handled her once he found her to be a female. Good grief...she was losing it! He was obviously as much a scumbag as Raoul was considering how he treated Della.

All men were animals...except her father, he had been the exception to the rule; and most likely, her mother would have proven that he had been exactly like all other men.

"Erik, don't forget you have a meeting in one hour...they are expecting the final schematic."

He lowered the paper slowly, dragging his gaze to Ms. Giry with what seemed to be a great deal of strain. He moved over to linger a moment on Christine,_ that _IS_ my T-shirt.... _Erik thought, the sight of her in it doing strange things to him, _....that should be a selling point for men's T-shirts...her looking that good in them. _His thoughts continued to spiral toward the gutter the more he looked at her. Dragging his eyes away, he once again focused on Della.

"I am aware of that, thank you. All is ready." He lifted his eyes to see the award from last night scowling at him from atop the curio cabinet. He shook his head and locked a hateful stare on Della.

"I thought your were going to take that thing to your room, or toss it in the nearest trash compacter."

His tone had been clipped and surly, but Ms. Giry seemed to brush it aside and smirk at him. "You are horrible in the mornings...finish your coffee and wipe the sleepless hours off your face." She seemed to be in control for the moment, "Is Tony going to be there?"

He looked as though he wanted to strangle her...and probably would have had it not been illegal. But then, all brothers felt that way about their sisters every once in a while.

He pulled the paper back up, "No, he's not...he lives in California for crying out loud...we aren't even that close anymore, stop annoying me."

He missed the smiles the children rendered and the sparkle of mischief in Delaney's eyes; but he definitely heard Christine's light chuckle...his whole body was attuned to it.

"I can't Erik....it's what I do...and I'm darn good at it." Delaney answered, winking at the children.

No one knew that behind that newspaper Erik smiled; he enjoyed the verbal banter he could always count on with Della, just as much as he enjoyed hearing the fluttering laughter the children always seemed eager to give.

After a couple of moments of quiet, Christine cleared her throat and swallowed her pride. "I need some help, please; my car broke down on the main road about a half mile from here and I need to get it fixed before I can leave."

_So..._ Erik thought, _...that explains her unexpected appearance at my door last night._ They had been expecting the agency to send over a replacement nanny that night – on a trial basis, as they all were – and everyone had mistaken this woman for that one. All Erik knew, was that his hip ached ruthlessly from the abuse she had dealt it last night, and his masculine pride – what he actually possessed of one, anyway – had been pounded into the ground by her ability to lay him out like a bag of potatoes.

Trying to avoid appearing any more emasculated that he already did, Erik remained hidden behind the paper, using it as a shield against her prying eyes. After all, despite his original thoughts at frightening her with his grotesque face, Erik had no desire to see the disgust in her eyes.

"Della, call Mitch at the garage and have him tow the car in for repairs." He instructed. "Tell him he is to put it on my bill and I will pay it when it is delivered."

Alarmed at his sudden generosity, Christine protested, "Oh no...I will have the money by then, just direct me to the nearest decent hotel and I'll be out of your hair." _Gorgeous though it is...and I'd love to see if it is as soft and silky as it looks... _Christine closed her wayward thoughts and tried not to imagine how wonderful it would be to surrender to the decadent daydreams this man was causing.

The paper moved down, and for a brief moment Christine was almost sure she saw a smirk play over his features, softening the lines around his alluring mouth; but before she could be certain, the moment passed.

"Don't worry about the money." Erik responded.

"I will have the money, I just need a few days."

"No need, it's taken care of."

And once again, he abruptly ended the subject by excusing himself and leaving the room. Christine watched him move, enjoying the way his muscles played beneath his clothing. She noticed how much more pronounced his limp was and realized that she must have really hurt him last night.

He really was a most stubborn and bull-headed man, used to having his way and not being faced with headstrong females who were every bit as stubborn as he was.

"Mr. Miklos, I really must insist..." Christine started to say as she looked up into his face. Was his other eye just as beautiful? She caught herself gazing deeply into their aquatic depths, "...just give me a few days."

He looked down at the hand that had wound its way around his arm; causing an unfamiliar warmth to course through him. Fearing he would sink into the novelty of it and crave more and more, he pulled his arm away, immediately regretting the loss of her touch. He crossed his arms over his chest and casually listened to her explain as best she could.

It didn't help that she was standing before him in a borrowed T-shirt and her oldest pair of sweat pants instead of one of her business suits, but Christine managed to put on her most businesslike attitude and deal with him as a client.

"I had some difficulties at home, and I had to leave on short notice...I left without a lot of available funds, but I will have access to my accounts in a couple of days."

He shifted legs, wincing as a sharp shot of pain bolted through his right thigh. His wincing made her cringe in regret. She hadn't for a moment forgotten how wonderful it had felt to have this man beneath her, nor how hard and muscled he was, but she felt horrible about having hurt him.

"I"m so sorry, really I am...for hurting you."

"I heard you the first three times you apologized..." he growled; than he softened his tone knowing he was being abrasive"...look, let me pay to have your car fixed, it's the least I can do for scaring you last night...." he shifted legs and leaned against the wall, "...by the way, where did you learn those moves?"

Unsure as to why he pulled away from her as though she were infected with Mad Cow disease, Christine tried to appear nonchalant about it.

"Self-defense classes...my daddy insisted."

"Smart man." She heard him mumble, although she wasn't sure if it was admiration or mocking she heard in his voice.

He didn't want to admit that the way she had overpowered him had set his body on fire; what a woman she was, full of fire and spirit. All the more reason for him to get away from her...she was dangerous to his shriveled and shattered heart.

She suddenly slapped her hands together and smiled gleefully, "Actually, I forgot, I do have enough money to pay to fix the car...I can get a room at the nearest YWCA...I brought enough money for a hotel and meals with me."

He lifted the dark wing of his brow, giving a most imposing look, "Ms. Drummond, the situation is under control. I am paying to have your car fixed."

She sighed in agreement, it seemed the man was used to having his will obeyed without question, much like she was. "Okay..." she conceded, ''…then you can now direct me to the nearest decent hotel."

After all that he had gone through to get his thoughts under control; to push her smell and feel from his mind and body; he couldn't believe he up and did what he did...

"You're welcome to stay here until your car is ready."

Oh. No. He. Didn't!! He needed to slap himself silly!

He made it to his car, crawled into it, started it, drove down his long driveway, and drove another fifty yards, before stopping in the middle of the road and pounding his head on the steering wheel.

What on earth was wrong with him?!!

۞۞۞

The house felt strangely empty without his imposing and impressive presence filling the it, but Christine didn't have long to dissect what that meant...exactly. Peyton and Paige quickly monopolized her time and helped her pass the time as she awaited news about her car.

Ms. Giry found her later in the morning, carrying two mugs of hot cider and some gingersnaps.

"Come and sit with me, Christine." It was a request, but Christine got the distinct impression that the woman was seldom refuted or turned down.

They sat in the large family room while the children watched an education show on television. Christine found the house to be quite comfortable and homey, despite the cold wind whirling outside. She wasn't certain, but she felt this had to be unusual weather for this part of Texas.

"Are the children not in school?" Christine asked, having no knowledge of such things.

"They are in year-around school, they are currently on a six-week winter break." Della answered, taking a long sip of hot chocolate. "Your car was picked up about an hour ago and taken to the garage, we won't know anything until later today or early tomorrow."

"Thank you for doing that for me, I'm in a rather strapped place right now, but I will pay Mr. Miklos back for anything he puts into the car."

Della chuckled into the cup as she took another sip, "I would just consider it a gift and leave it at that; he will not accept anything in return."

Unable to accept that Christine frowned, "But he doesn't even know me."

Her chocolate sharing companion shrugged her slender shoulders and smiled, "That's just the way he is...don't argue the details."

People just didn't do that anymore...give without expecting something in return. Raoul had never given her anything in the years she had known him, without expecting something special from her. It had usually been some form of bedroom antics that made her act the submissive or perform some repulsive or ridiculous act.

The color drained from her and her expression was vacant...surely Mr. Miklos didn't expect her to...

"Would he be requiring something else of me?" She stammered; uncertain of the answer, but expecting the worst.

Della was completely lost, she had no idea where the girls thoughts were; until she looked her deep in the eye and saw the simmering specs of panic.

"My goodness, you honestly believe he would expect that of you?" She looked aghast at the mere hint of such a thing, "Erik would expect no such thing, trust me; what he gives, he gives freely."

It seemed unfathomable to her.

"Are you his girlfriend?" Christine was shocked at her nosiness, but she seemed unable to stop herself.

This time, she really did laugh. "Oh! Good heavens no! But don't think I didn't will it so when we were younger." Della smiled as she thought of years gone by, "That ship sailed long ago..." her smile faded, but she pinned Christine with a judicious sparkle in her gaze, "...Erik is my brother, in all ways except blood; but I'm also his assistant in business matters and other things."

"What is it that he does?" Once again, curiosity blossomed.

She really wanted to ask if he was currently seeing anyone; had he ever been married, could his kiss make her toes curl as easily as feeling his body against hers had made her knees weak? You know, the basic stuff that every girl needs to know.

Della finished the mug of chocolate and took another cookie. "Erik is an engineer under contract with the Air Force. His designs are some of the most highly sophisticated and top-secret that the military is working on."

Christine was stunned into silence…she knew he was brilliant, but this was more than she had imagined.

"Most of what he knows is a gift…he was born with it…but he did obtain his PH.D in Aerospace and Astronautical Engineering from M.I.T. after accelerating through their Bachelor's and Master's degree programs."

"He's a genius." Christine murmured, the quiver and awe in her tone quite evident.

"Yes, quite so." Della responded with pride. "That's where he is this morning, pitching his final ideas to the Air Force; after they approve and buy them – which they will - he plans to retire."

"He's so young...what will he do with the rest of his life?" Christine found herself envying him the ability to just let go.

Della chucked again, "Believe me, he has plenty to keep him busy."

Before she could ask about those things that would keep him busy, the children hopped up from in front of the television, starving for lunch.

"Come, let's make the little ones some pizza..." Della suggested, "...we'll give Francois a break."

They moved toward the kitchen with Della in the lead. As they entered the large room, she turned to the kids and made a request.

"Why don't you two go and ask Jacque to join us, his show should be over too."

Off they ran, easily winding around the corner to speed down the hall, "And stop running!" Della shouted.

Christine couldn't help but laugh; they were just so full of energy and life that it made her want to bottle it to sell like wildfire on the market...after all, she was the pharmaceutical industries reigning queen, she could find a way.

"I've not really had a great deal of interaction with children...they are delightful." Christine stated, still listening to their exuberant laughter.

"They are." Della agreed, pulling the pizza's out of the freezer, "For a while, after their parents were killed, we thought we'd never see them smile again...they were only three, but in some ways they still remember."

Christine wanted to asked for more details, but she wasn't sure she knew anyone in the family well enough to feel free to ask. The children still carried those memories, she could see them invade their innocent, trusting eyes every now and then; and it tore her heart out. She had never thought herself a sentimental woman; never thought herself soft in any way...but she had a feeling the next few days were going to prove to be a study in self awareness.

Della looked at Christine, doing nothing to hide the remorse in her eyes, "We all remember."

All three children came back in at that time; as did Francois, looking less than pleased at having his kitchen invaded by little people and women. It was the first time that Christine had noticed the twinkle in Della's eyes when she looked at Francois...there was something there...most definitely.

"What do you ladies think you are doing...dirtying my kitchen without my expressed permission?" He teased, pronouncing each work with a flagrant French accent and purposefully waving his hands about to emphasize his mock exasperation.

"They were hungry, and this is the place to come to rid them of their growling tummies." Della teased.

"Yes, but why would such a beautiful woman wish to dirty her hands with food...when there is a man about who is more than willing to tempt her taste buds with succulent dishes?"

Okay, this was awkward. Christine watched the two flirt back and forth, neither of them taking the other seriously. However, Christine could feel the undercurrent of mutual attraction between them, and it was seriously strong.

"Don't worry, they do this all the time." Jacque assured her as he came to sit beside her at the table. "We just laugh at it most of the time."

Christine focused on the young boy beside her. He was no more than twelve, short for his age, but quite handsome. His cropped, warm brown hair held a slight curl at the ends and his big eyes were a tawny brown with medium lashes framing them. He had refined features, just like his father, but they were tamed by the blush of youth.

"It's entertaining, if nothing else." Christine stated, giving the boy a reassuring smile.

Finally, bowing to Francois's superior cooking skills, the women just sat and watched the man work his magic.

However, in the end...it was still frozen pizza.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Hello again. I am terribly disappointed in myself this week...I have hardly written a word. I guess I've taken a bit of a vacation. I do apologize.

Thank you for your responses to this story, they are much appreciated. I do know that my writing does not appeal to everyone, and that is their choice; however, being what it is...my writing...the way I choose to do it is my business, and not everyone is going to like it. I will NOT stray from my moral beliefs - as set forth in my profile - nor will I compromise my beliefs; NOT FOR ANYONE.

That said, if you don't like my style of writing or characterization....there is nothing saying that you HAVE to read anything written by me.

Okay, I'm down off my soapbox now.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 6 - Day 2, mid to late evening...

An unfamiliar sense of achievement washed over Erik as he quietly entered his house. His contract with the Department of Defense had come to an end with the most successful design of his life. They had paid him handsomely, and he could easily retire on just the interest the money would make him. Dwelling on that thought was rather sad though...he had no one with whom to share his success, not on an intimate level. Empty victories weren't a very fulfilling way to spend one's life, but he'd had so many of them that it was becoming routine.

Scoffing at his own thoughts, Erik placed his car keys on the hall tree along with his cane, and moved further into the house. It was unusually quiet; all the lights were low and he had to strain to hear muffled sounds filtering through the air. He was rather late, he hadn't realized how much time had passed until he had left the meeting and started for home; it wasn't like they were waiting for him anyway.

What would it be like to come home to a woman who wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked through the door; one who wanted his lips on hers and whose smile was only for him? He sometimes wondered what his life would have been like had he been born a different man altogether; one with no blood on his hands, no demons in his past, and no scars to tell the story.

He took his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of one of the dining chairs, unhooked the cuffs on his shirt and loosened his tie; he got so tired of dressing the part every day...you could put him in a suit and even a fancy tux; but in the end, he was still roadkill. _Roadkill.__.. _Erik scoffed, a disgusted snarl hanging on his lips, _...that describes me perfectly.__  
_

Erik hesitated by the phone for a moment, almost lifting the receiver to call one of the few men he considered a friend, even though they had engaged in a friendly rivalry at M.I.T. Tony Stark was as brilliant and uniquely gifted as Erik was, but Tony had the advantage of looking the part. He had taken over his father's business in California, with much success and fame. It had been some time since they had seen each other, communicating by cell phone and email. Tony's brilliance manifested itself in weapons of war and mass destruction, Erik's was in the airplanes and other vehicles that carried those weapons.

Moving as a shadow through the house, Erik decided to forgo the phone call and send Tony an email later. The house was unusually quiet; he was used to the children clamoring about him in the evening when he got home or during the hours of the day when he was trying to get some work done. And although he didn't want to admit it to himself, he felt bereft at not seeing them as soon as he walked through the door...what an empty place this would be if they weren't there to give it the pulsing life that surrounded and filled them.

Approaching their room, he came to a quiet stop outside the door, which was open just enough for him to see inside without them knowing he was there. For a few blessed moments during the day, he had actually forgotten Ms. Drummond was going to be here when he got back...now, that reality came slamming into him as he saw her on the floor with his children...wait, they weren't his. Why did he find himself doing that more and more?...Gregori's and Tess's children. She sat amongst a river of toys that would have normally set his compulsive nature on edge, but somehow seemed normal with her in the middle.

"Can we have another song, Ms. Christine...you sing like an angel?" Paige requested, pulling a strand of Christine's dark hair through her fingers as though mesmerized.

Erik stiffened at the request. There had been a time when they had requested _he_ sing to them;but that was before bitterness and loss had robbed him of his desire. Music had once been a source of companionship to him; like a warm fire on a cold winter's night; someone he could turn to when all others seemed intent on abandoning him. But eventually, she had abandoned him too; leaving him as empty as a cocoon after the butterfly flies away.

There was a time, not long ago, that he would have easily been awake until two or three in the morning struggling to put on paper the words and music that threatened the very life they belonged to. But they had gone silent in the tomb that was his soul; the life they craved no longer pulsing through his veins.

His music still moved the public and those in the industry; that was obvious by the number of awards he kept winning...but it was music he had kept locked up for years; music he had composed long ago when he had been young and foolish. He was neither young nor foolish any more; cynical and realistic, he no longer dreamed, no longer yearned.

"Absolutely, I'm always ready to sing a song." Erik's attention was reluctantly drawn back to the woman whose very presence seemed to hold his entire being captive. "This is a beautiful song...

"_Lonely  
The path you have chosen  
A restless road  
No turning back  
One day you  
Will find your light again  
Don't you know  
Don't let go  
Be strong_

_"Follow your heart  
Let your love lead through the darkness  
Back to a place you once knew  
I believe, I believe, I believe  
In you_

_"Follow your dreams  
Be yourself, an angel of kindness  
There's nothing that you can not do  
I believe, I believe, I believe  
In you. _

"_Someday I will find you  
Someday you'll find me too  
And when I hold you close  
I'll know that it's true_

_"Follow your heart  
Let your love lead through the darkness  
Back to a place you once knew  
I believe, I believe, I believe in you_

_Follow your dreams  
Be yourself, an angel of kindness  
There's nothing that you can not do  
I believe, I believe, I believe  
In you. ***_

***"I Believe in You", sung by Il Divo

He stood; stunned and shattered by what he had heard. Her voice, although not formally trained, was the purest representation of beauty he had ever heard. Coaxing each note from someplace deep within her, her exquisite gift reminded Erik of the joy that singing and music had once given him. What would it be like to mold and form such a gift...to watch as it soared to new heights, changing lives at it flew?

Fury welled within him. What right did she have to steal away the loneliness he had grown so comfortable with; what right did she have to make him long for things he could not have...things that no woman would ever be willing to give him?

But worst of all - she had sparked something within him – with just the touch of her voice to his cracked, blistered soul.

It was sweet torture.

He didn't know, but he was none too happy about finding himself in this place...at this time in his life. He was a crippled, scarred, thirty-something man with nothing to offer anyone...especially a woman; what right did she have to ride his hopes with her angelic voice, soft body, and ardent eyes?

Hardening his heart once again, Erik moved silently from the door. He needed the solitude and sanity of his own room right now; the one place he knew he could allow his true self to emerge; the one place he could stare himself in the face and curse the image that kept him prisoner.

۞۞۞

The song had eased the children enough to allow Christine to leave the room without trouble; they were both sinking into a dreamworld of their own making. She thought of how much they seemed to appreciate her singing when all Raoul had done was chastise her for the joy she derived from it. Her parents had always encouraged her throughout school. She had been in numerous high school plays and musicals that she had seriously thought about leaving the family business and pursuing a career at Broadway...but it was not meant to be.

The movement she heard on the floor above her indicated that Mr. Miklos had returned home. She glanced at the watch on her arm and frowned. Did the lateness of the hour mean that his meeting had gone well or was he hiding behind closed doors to sulk? She could at least be hospitable and ask; even if the thought of seeing him made her insides tremble. Returning to her room, Christine quickly showered and absently primped for him...although she would never confess to it.

۞۞۞

Erik scowled and lifted his head from the book he had been intently reading. He sat with crossed legs next to the window in the easy chair that he had purchased on a whim three years ago. Surely he hadn't just heard someone knock on his door...it must be his imagination. He gave it a second or two and went back to reading _Solemnly Swear._

Not but a few moments after he'd gotten involved for the second time, the knock sounded again. Exasperated, he placed his book mark and closed the book. Thinking it must be Francois coming to check on him, he didn't bother to belt the robe that hung on him like the regal clothing of a king.

"Francois...how many times do I have to...." his words froze in his throat as he opened the door and found amused, expresso-colored eyes staring back at him.

Christine sucked in the very breath she was exhaling when she dropped her eyes leisurely down the exposed flesh of his chest; the black silk robe framing it as if it were on display in a live art show. Okay, now she could add six-pack abs; the perfect dusting of dark hair, and taut pecs to his list of assets. The skin was marred by several scars of varying sizes, lending a touch of reality to his physic. He had been through something; something horrific and torturous. Christine wondered what it was and how it had happened.

He crossed his arms over the very spot she had been admiring, causing her to reluctantly divert her gaze. She found him poised and waiting for her to speak with what appeared to be annoyance in his glare. His dark hair was tousled and swept across his forehead in an adorable fashion...so adorable, in fact, that Christine had to fist her hands to keep her fingers from acting on their own accord.

He was so perfectly imperfect, if there was such a thing. His hair was too long to be fashionable, his face too asymmetrical to be considered handsome by the worlds standards; his body too scarred and damaged to ever grace People Magazines Most Beautiful People issue. But to her, he was perfection. He looked as though he had just left the bed of an amorous lover...and she found herself envious of the locks of hair that gently fell over his forehead; she longed to whisper kisses where they now rested.

_What is he doing to me? __I've broken into a sweat__. _Christine mentally berated herself as her mother would have done; not that it really solved the problem, but it made her feel better.

He was without his eye-patch, thankfully; the blasted thing hid his extraordinary eyes from view. She had seen the small white cloud in the middle of his right eye that indicated blindness, a result of whatever weapon had been used to dissect his eyebrow and carve up his cheek. She had not assumed he was blind behind the eye-patch, but she had drawn her conclusions...and they had been right.

"Ms. Drummond, do you realize it is after 10 P.M.? Was there something you needed...another opportunity to wrestle me to the ground perhaps, or just get a good look at the monster that I am?"

His voice was so mesmerizing, but the slight edge in it managed to prick her anger just a bit.

"There's no need to get testy...I was just wanting to have a piece of the cheesecake that Francois made earlier and wondered if you wanted to have one too?" _Not that wrestling around on the floor with you doesn't hold a measure of promise._ She voiced in her head, her eyes wandering over what she could see of him. _Can you just take the robe all the way off and allow me to touch you...everywhere?_

Missing the spike of desire in her eyes, Erik stared incredulously at her, _Cheesecake? She interrupted Joe Porrazzo to ask about cheesecake?_

He almost laughed before considering the fact that she was willing to spend time with him, even if it was just to eat a piece of cheesecake...and he _did_ like cheesecake...and he _was_ hungry. Why not? What could it hurt? A beautiful woman to share a moment of sweet delight with...this was a rare opportunity for him, one he would not pass on.

He almost laughed again.

"Sure, I am a bit hungry, cheesecake may just hit the spot."

Christine knew that normally, had he been Raoul, he would be flexing muscles and making crude remarks that would draw attention to his male prowess, but Erik seemed impervious toward his own charms. He made no move to impress her with his rock-hard muscles or marred, raw masculine beauty...scarred in many ways, damaged from a battle when he had apparently been quite young...blind; he found himself repulsive and expected she did too.

_What an intriguing man he is....utterly delicious._ Christine thought, eager to get to know him better.

He motioned for her to lead him out the door and then pulled it shut behind him. As they moved down the staircase, he tied the belt of his robe and Christine found herself frowning...she had rather liked it open.

Francois had cut the cheesecake into proper pieces and placed it strategically in the very front of the refrigerator. He had made Christine promise that she would eat a piece later, as she didn't have one at dinner. He had also made it clear that Mr. Miklos was to eat one also.

"Have a seat, I'll get it." Christine stated, not wishing to explore the odd sense of rightness that fell over her at performing this simple domestic task for him.

She snatched two pieces and placed one in front of Erik and sat down across from him. He finally swept a trembling?...hand through his hair, drawing some of the inky strands into compliance; but others still stroked his forehead like the gentle kiss of a lover.

_She has to know that I'm considered rich by most standards..._ Erik thought as he watched her begin to devour the cheesecake, _...but that can't be why she's here, unless this is all a big joke._

He was unusually attuned to the intents of people...it was a gift....and he got no such vibes from Ms. Drummond. She just didn't seem intrigued by his money in any way. Not that he was trying to impress her, but she was a fascinating enigma and a challenge to his senses; and Erik never backed down from a challenge.

She was so different from the arm decoration he had been forced to entertain over the years. He had dropped a few dollars their way and they had been ready and willing to show him their appreciation by being seen with him. But one look in their eyes and Erik knew they were playing him; they were only eager to climb another rung up the ladder - that was all.

It both humiliated and shamed him; of course, more than that, it infuriated him. Did they realize that by offering what they were, they made themselves the same as prostitutes? He didn't think so. Not to say he hadn't been tempted, he was a man after all; but the thought of a woman sleeping with him simply because he had given her a substantial amount of money or bought her an expensive gift sickened him.

"How did your meeting go?" She asked, interrupting his dark thoughts. She had poured two classes of cold milk to wash the cheesecake down and she took a sip of it as she awaited his answer.

He cocked his head to the side with an endearing look of complete loss on his face.

"The meeting you had with the Defense Department?" Christine repeated, wondering what was wrong with him...he seemed preoccupied.

"Oh..." he sparked, "...yeah, that went great. I have completed my contract with them. Now I can renew some old hobbies and maybe do some traveling."

She just nodded her head, seemingly unimpressed with the fact that he could now retire and pursue other interests. It really galled him and he had no idea why. That was the only thing he had going for him...the only thing he could use to draw a woman to him...and she wasn't even nipping at it.

"What about you, Ms. Drummond, what are your plans once your car is fixed?"

For reasons that escaped him, Erik wanted to know. He wasn't willing to fully admit that he was attracted to her yet, but he was interested in what her immediate plans were.

"I guess you could say that I'm on a leave of absence...I have a few things that I'm juggling right now, but some personal problems have arisen and I'm trying to get those squared away before I lay anymore plans."

He really wanted more details, but he knew he had no right to ask them of her. He was nothing to her and knew it would always be that way. However, in between the words she was speaking, Erik heard the need she had to tell someone what she was keeping inside.

He wished that someone was him.

_You're a fool..._ Erik kept repeating in his mind; the truth of it sinking into him like a straight shot of hard whiskey.

"You mentioned a divorce..." Erik started, changing the subject.

Her eyes misted over, a direct reaction to the emotions swelling within her; but Erik only saw what he thought was her love for the man she was about to lose.

"Yes, I did." He thought she was going to stop with that, but she finally continued, "Raoul was my high school sweetheart. We dated for a couple of years before we finally married with my parents blessing." She wiped a tear from her cheek before moving on, "Five years later...let's just say that I saw his true colors and it's taking some time to cleanse myself of the pain he caused."

She looked him directly in the eye, missing the flare of jealousy that swept in them, "How about you...ever been married?" She knew he hadn't, but she wanted to hear him explain it.

His self-mocking laugh was enough to tell her a great deal about him, "That's funny..." he sneered with searing self-hatred while shaking his head in the negative, "...me married...right."

"Why not?" She found herself asking.

His eyes were distant and shadowed; his voice low and full of resigned defeat, "If you can't figure out the reasons, Ms. Drummond, you're more blind than I am."

Something in the way he said it warned her not to pursue the subject any further. He sat quietly, but she could see the rigid line of his shoulders and the sudden tensing of his back. He pushed the half eaten piece of cheesecake away and crossed his arms over the table. His hands were large and neatly manicured; strong and sure looking with just a slight brushing of dark hairs across the knuckles.

"I'm sure you're quite curious about your car."

He finally said, spearing the silence with his sensual voice. He had debated about mentioning her singing; but quickly realized that mentioning it would simply point out to her that he had been eavesdropping; and he wasn't ready to admit his fascination with her...voice.

Christine almost frowned; she hadn't given the bucket of bolts a second thought all day; but she didn't want him to know that.

"Yes, I am."

"I received a call from Mitch today, he says the repairs could take at least a week; he has to order parts that are rather difficult to obtain but he feels confident that he can get them...plus his best mechanic is out of town right now." Erik didn't mention that with a few extra dollars he could have moved the repairs forward a day or two, but that would have led to her leaving a couple of days early....

...how was that good for him?

Christine worried her bottom lip, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of him paying for anything. The car wasn't worth the effort and money he was putting into it, but it's value was priceless – it was a link to her father that she wasn't ready to sever just yet. She would get it back home to Dallas and lock it away...for good.

_At least a week. _Christine thought, disturbed by the length of time. She'd already avoided several distress calls from Raoul on her cell phone; preferring to return them on her own time and under her conditions. She wasn't ready to deal with him or his questions and accusations...not yet.

"That's a long time...I ..."

"I know you don't have anywhere to go, so you may stay here..." He offered openly, knowing it was the right thing to do even if it made him crazy to be around her, "...there's no need to waste what money you do have on a hotel when I have plenty of room for you."

She was going to confess everything to him – just lay it all out there for him to decipher; but he made the offer with no strings attached...and that - more than anything – melted her heart. He considered himself to be such an unlovable monster; unworthy of the love of anyone, even children. She'd really been ignorantly foolish all her life, thinking that all you needed was a good deal of money to have joy in your life.

But Erik was proving her wrong...with every gaze of his fathomless eyes. He was a man who had no money problems; and yet, there was no joy in him. She caught glimpses of it at times, when he looked at Peyton and Paige, or when he was debating verbally with Della, but his soul seemed tired...lost.

She graced him with a stunning smile that would have stripped him of all defenses had he been open to it; but he was an expert at erecting bullet proof walls around his heart as well as caging his desires. After all, he'd been doing it all his life.

"I don't want to be a bother, really I don't."

He seemed to look straight through her for a time, as though his thoughts were elsewhere. She had the strangest feeling he was weighing the pros and cons of allowing her to stay; curiously, she wanted to know what the pros were.

"Think nothing of it, Ms. Drummond." He stated pragmatically, before standing and taking the plate and glass to the sink. "Good night." He was walking out the door as he said it, apparently sparing her no more thought.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Hello again.

This chapter reveals a "new" character and a "new" style for me....crossovers. You should recognize him when he enters the story, so I won't ruin the surprise. The actor who portrayed him on the big screen is the same one I'm using and I'll offer a disclosure at the end.

I also bring my faith into this chapter more. Those of you who are familiar with my writing or who have read my profile, know that I include my LORD in just about every story I write. Erik's spiritual awakening is very important to me, and it begins in this chapter.

Just a reminder, this story will not span a great deal of time, this is a "Love-in-the-first-twenty-four-hours" kind of story; and I for one know that that kind of love truly does exist. Erik and Christine have passed that point, but their love for each other is already in place....they just have to realize it.

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 7, Day 3 – from the wee hours of the morning on through to whenever....

An hour or so later, Erik about jumped out of his skin when his cell phone rang. He hated that thing...hated everything about it. He only had it because Della, Thax, and Tony had all convinced him that he needed to move into the twenty-first century; and they needed to be able to contact him.

Although, Erik knew Tony insisted on it only so he could haggle him twenty-four hours a day; not that he had the time to do so. Ever since his captivity and subsequent escape, Tony had been working an exuberant amount to change the way America handled war. His Ironman persona was teaching the Department of Defense a new strategy and waking up the blue coats in Washington.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that you forgot there was two hours difference between California and Texas?"

Tony Stark gave his usual devil-may-care chuckle, "Forgot...?...hardly....you know I don't clutter my mind with the inconsequential."

Erik could only shake his head in frustration....the man would never change. "With that stunt you pulled last week, I don't know if I should crown you king of the world or king of the loony bin."

The three months following Tony's abduction had been hard on Erik. He had done his best to aid the D.O.D. in locating Tony and had been relieved when he had found the brilliance to escape. Erik had never felt such utter helplessness as he did during those weeks when Tony was no where to be found.

"Now Erik, let's be reasonable, I'm no king....just call me a prince among men and all's good. Anyway, I called to let you know that I heard about your latest project with the defense department and I was awed by it....nice job, Dude."

"I don't want to talk about me Tony, I find this new non-weapon approach of yours fascinating. The suit itself is beyond anything I've ever seen, It's so wonderful that it worked...oh and, I was sorry to hear about Obidiah, I know he was like a father to you."

"Yeah well, he certainly proved his worth in the end, didn't he." Tony remarked with as little emotion as he could muster. The betrayal and ultimate death of Obidiah Stane, his mentor and business adviser for years, was still a very open wound, "Anyway, back to the suit....do you remember the long nights at M.I.T. we spent speculating and drawing up diagrams about the various inventions we had parading through our over-zealous and sleep deprived minds?"

Erik remembered them well, Tony had been the only other individual in a whirlwind of humanity that had bothered to befriend him, it had been the beginning of a special relationship for both of them. Two brilliant men with completely different back grounds; each as much a prisoner of intellect as the other.

"Yes Tony, I do; but you made it work, friend..._you_ made it work." Erik was impressed and it took a great deal for him to be that way, "And the greatest part of it is that you did it originally with spare parts and archaic tools."

"A man's got to do what a man's got to do, what can I say." Tony laughed, "Hey, I'm coming to see you on Tuesday, I thought I'd give a couple of days notice."

Taken aback for a moment, Erik had to subdue the stab of ridiculous jealousy that skewered him. Tony Stark, handsome, charming, well versed in the ways of women....coming here and being around Christine....

....this was not good.

"Is it not a good time?" Tony asked, wondering why Erik hadn't responded.

He ran his hand over his face and pushed it through the dark whorls of hair that always seemed on the verge of actually staying in place, "No Tony, Tuesday's fine. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Erik....I can't believe you don't remember...." Tony jested, "....it's my birthday."

۞۞۞

Having gotten little sleep, Erik was less than cordial the following morning when greeted by the fresh, glowing face of his nemesis, Ms. Drummond. Did the woman ever look rough or tousled...? He didn't think so. Even the first night she had stumbled into his life, with her hair matted to her head by a plastic bag, her muddy clothing soaked clean through to her skin, and big globs of debris scattered over her features, he had found her disturbingly alluring.

Nothing had changed.

Much to his dismay, she never indulged in feminine clothing, but chose to wear baggy pants and shapeless tops; clothing more suited for a man's straight frame rather than a woman's curves. After his conversation with Tony, Erik had thought about her...and him...after all, Tony was known for his ways with the opposite sex.

He spent most of his waking hours determining that she was not his "type" anyway. Of course, that started another personal debate about what in heaven's name he was doing being "picky" about any "type" of woman...he was deluding himself if he thought any of them would give him a second glance, let alone another thought.

Firmly grounded in these unfortunate thoughts and functioning on less than three hours of sleep, Erik felt his snippy, short attitude – complete with complimentary frown – was deserved; they would just have to deal with it.

As he was mentally crossing his arms over his chest and casting his nose to the air in and act of defiance, Christine sat down on the opposite side of the table, paying him absolutely no mind. She wore a drab gray jogging suit that did nothing to flatter what Erik was certain was a voluptuous bosom and flaring hips – which made his mood that much more rancid. He could not understand why a woman of such obvious beauty would hide herself beneath layers of hideous clothing.

It boggled his mind.

Now him...that was a different matter altogether. He had a reason to hide his repulsive features from the world. There was no need to cause spontaneous bouts of heart failure and hysteria; screaming children and fainting women weren't his cup of tea.

_There's a lawsuit just waiting for a place to happen. _Erik thought, laughing at his own self-degradation. _I can just imagine the headlines in the paper following such an incident. _

That had never happened, and Della wouldn't let him hide anyway. She seemed to have appointed herself his personal motivational guru. Of course, as though hearing the cue in his head, Della strolled in looking every bit as well rested and fresh faced as Ms. Drummond. She was a familiar piece of furniture in his life; someone he relied on for honesty and friendship.

She had never married, a fact that Erik had not dwelt on; but he knew she was a lovely woman – tall and graciously curved for a slender woman, with hordes of auburn hair that hung delightfully down her back. Her green/blue eyes were always lit up with intelligence and wonder; something Erik found stimulating; and he knew many men who felt the same way...but she paid none of them any attention.

Why couldn't he have won her affections? He knew it was ludicrous, but it didn't stop him from questioning it. He was a like a little brother to her, and he was thankful for that. She had been his voice of reason on so many occasions and saved him from himself an equal amount of times; she had seen him at his worst. She was the first female to show him any kindness, and she had won his young, scorched, and broken heart rather quickly – considering Erik's reluctance to trust or love anyone.

He was thankful to have her in his life in any way...he would never ruin it by pursuing her romantically.

"Hello there Erik...." she stated with a warm smile and then flicked her eyes to Christine, "...and Christine."

Erik grunted his greeting and Christine smiled back and said, "Good morning."

"Where are the children?" Christine asked.

"They usually sleep late on Sunday." Erik offered, playing absently with the scrambled eggs on his plate.

Christine gasped and stood up, scooting her chair back noisily as she did so. "It's Sunday?!" She looked aghast at the knowledge, "I need to go to church!"

She ran out of the room and disappeared in a blaze of hysteria, leaving Della and Erik staring after her in astounding amusement.

Christine threw on the only dress she had packed; a red, turtleneck sweater dress with a loose-fitting, big, black belt around her curvy waist. She pulled on a pair of black tights, and completed the look with a pair of black, knee-high, suede boots.

She glanced in the mirror, swept her fingers through her hair, examined her face closely for any obvious blemishes. Having found none that would stop traffic, she hurried back down the stairs to call a cab.

Erik and Della still sat at the table, both engrossed in their own morning reading. She stopped short, remembering that she did not know the phone number to the cab company nor did she have her cell phone on her. She ran back up the stairs – a feat of heroic proportions in high-healed boots – found her phone and headed back down.

She quietly entered the dining room; as though she had not been rushed, and captured Erik's attention. When he looked up, it was all he could do to keep his jaw from dropping loudly to the floor. Was this the same woman that had hurriedly left the table ten minutes ago wearing a shapeless sweatshirt and baggy pants?

It wasn't that the dress hugged her delicious curves like a glove, but it certainly allowed him to enjoy the womanly lushness of them. He drank in the sight she was; noting the ample sway of breast and hip that gave her a sinful, hour-glass figure that had Erik's mouth watering and his body standing up to take notice.

_What are you doing you idiot? _He asked his offending member, as though it could answer, _She does not give a flip what you think....heel! _Embarrassment clamored at his throat and made him grind his teeth; hoping to tether the lewd reaction of his body.

"Do you know the number to the cab company?" She inquired, a look of expectant excitement on her face.

Despite his determination to be detached, his brow shot up and a frown creased his forehead, "A cab...why do you need a cab?"

"I have no vehicle and I need to get to church?" Christine insisted.

"Do you even know what church you wish to attend?"

Erik wondered why he kept asking questions; it wasn't as if he cared. His body did not dictate his actions! He would conquer this ridiculous, burgeoning swell of lust that caused him to behave irrationally; like positively refusing to make eye contact with her, fearing she would easily see within their depths the things he desired of her.

He was truly pathetic.

"Yes, actually I do....I looked it up on the Internet Thursday, knowing that Sunday was coming and I needed to go to church. It's called Providence New Life Church....it's not far according to _MapQuest_."

Erik knew the place, he passed it everyday on his way into San Antonio for work. It was a rather large Non-Denominational church known for it's kindness and out-reach.

_I bet they've never seen anything like me before..._ Erik silently stated, _...I bet their Christian charity and kindness would go right down the drain once they lay their sights on me._

"I'll take you, just give me a minute." Erik offered, still not believing his own words. His tongue was as fickle and treasonous as the rest of him.

Stunned into complete silence, Christine nodded and watched him leave the room. The look on his face indicated that he was none to pleased about taking her, but she wasn't about to turn down the offer. She wondered if he was going to attend the service with her, or just drop her off.

He reappeared in no time; having donned a coat over his black jeans, blue t-shirt, and white dress shirt. He was looking quite dashing in his casual dress; easy on the eyes to say the least. His dark, longish hair was tousled and wavy, resisting any taming that might have been applied; and he wore the eye patch that Christine had determined was the sexiest accessory he possessed. If he showed even the slightest interest, Christine would be on him like butter on bread...there was no shame in admitting to herself...no shame at all.

She would take that sour disposition of his and help him realize that taking himself less seriously and enjoying life would exert far less energy and be beneficial in so many ways. The man was too brooding; and although his dark mood made her want to throttle him most of the time, she found it devastatingly attractive...just like the man himself.

She was a free woman after all, and Erik was all kinds of attractive. Divorcing Raoul had been a long time in the making. He had covered most of his deceptive nature while her parents lived, but as soon as he saw what he thought was a weakness – her – he nosedived into undermining everything she was doing. His affairs and criminal actions toward her company had forfeited his right to any voice in the divorce...his loud contesting had fallen on deaf ears and his agreement had never been necessary.

She had also talked to Paul again; the Board had given Raoul his pink slip and read the charges they could file against him; but Christine just wanted him out of her life and the life of her company. She wouldn't press charges it he would leave the state and never come back, and she never wanted to see or hear from him again; otherwise, he'd spend the next thirty-five years behind bars.

He'd left without a fight and no one knew where he'd gone. She supposed there would always be a part of her that cared about him; cared whether he was dead or alive, that is; but not much past that.

"Are you staying for services?" She finally asked.

He almost laughed, but quelled the desire to do so; if she only knew....

"No, I'll drop you off and Della will pick you up."

That disappointed her more than she supposed it should have. Something seemed to tell her that he had an aversion to church; or anything having to do with it. Perhaps it was the sudden fluctuation in his tone or the dread in his eyes.

"Not the church-going kind, are we?" She asked teasingly.

He shot her a fiery look, leaving her feeling as foolish as she would have had she been caught with her pants down. The smile that had beautifully graced her mouth faded under the weight of her regret. She had riled him again – somehow – and not in a good way. Perhaps she should just stop communication efforts with him; she seemed destined to rub him the wrong way.

He turned his back to her and walked out the door, leaving her still trying to figure out what she had done to anger him. She shut the door and followed him, asking herself why this one man got under her skin so much. She was the owner and CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation; she was used to facing down corporate bureaucrats that thought her beneath them simply because she was a woman; she was used to barking orders and having them obeyed without question; she was used to men bending to her every will – even if she spoke softly and carried a large stick.

She was the head woman in charge.

But Erik Miklos somehow penetrated all of her well constructed defenses and was now banging away at her hidden desires. As a businesswoman, he fascinated her; he was crazy smart – excelling in areas that left _her_ brilliant mind in shambles. He challenged her intellectually, a feat that few had ever accomplished.

As a man, he attracted her. He was so NOT Raoul...in every way. He was dark and brooding; a maelstrom of tantalizing mystery, dangerous sensuality, and regal elegance that had her longing for one brush of his fingers along the soft curve of her neck; or the sweep of his lips over the creamy swell of her breasts. Raoul had never aroused such heated responses from her...and Erik hadn't even touched her!

Erik's thoughts were just as riotous. She was going to be the death of him, he was certain of it. The woman had the audacity to tease him. HIM! No one teased him. Well, almost no one. Della took a strange delight in ruffling his feathers on a daily basis. Then there was Thax, one of his best friends; the man literally rode Erik's last nerve all the time, from sunup to sundown. Tony didn't waste the chance either.

Come to think of it, those who shared the closest places in his heart did tease him, and often. But why would she even take the time or make the effort to tease him? As he drew his forehead into a proper frown his cell phone rang. The number that popped up made his lip curl in an amused smirk.

"Hey Thax."

Erik opened the garage door, aware that Christine was still directly behind him...it seemed he was doomed to always feel her no matter where she was.

"Yeah, I'll meet you there. I'm dropping someone off on the way, so I'll be there in about thirty minutes."

Christine hated one-way conversations, especially when she was trying to be nosy and learn something more about the man who held her attentions. But as the garage opened to her, Christine was instantly in love with the car that was revealed to her; a Malachite Green Metallic Boxster S Porsche. She adored it with her eyes and then caressed the hood with her fingers...feeling the raw power of the car beneath her trembling flesh.

Erik watched her, feeling himself grow more and more aroused at watching her stroke the cold, unyielding paint on his car as he longed to feel her stroke him. It was obvious that she was enamored with the vehicle; a fact that he found very pleasing. He flipped his phone shut, opened the passenger door, and reached his hand toward her to help her into the front seat.

She didn't even hesitate; instead, she grinned and took his proffered hand as she sank into the leather seats with an audible sigh of appreciation. He shut the door firmly, but gently, and rounded the car toward his seat. Once inside, he chanced a glance at her only to find that she was as in awe of the inside of the car as she was with the outside.

"I love this car, Erik...it's absolutely the most beautiful car I have seen in a long time."

It was the first time he had ever heard his name cross her lips; it made him want to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. He was certain she would and that made him want to bang his head against something rough and hard, making his body think of something other than her willing curves pressed against him in an intimate manner that would have them both blissfully exhausted.

_For having never been with a woman you sure are confident about your ability to please one... _Erik chastised himself with a berating, mocking mental snicker, _...keep your mind on things you can understand and comprehend, you fool, not on your starved libido._

His eyes touched hers and he yielded to the sudden sensation of his lips curving into a rare smile. He hoped it didn't look like a snarl or a poor attempt at amiability. He wasn't sure what was on her mind; she was unusually quiet as he started the car and enjoyed the purr of the perfectly tuned engine. He backed out of the garage and eased onto the road, heading toward the church she wished to attend.

Christine was floored by the jolt of desire that bolted through her when he smiled. The man was gorgeous, but when he smiled – it was a beautiful thing. Her body melted under his sea-foam gaze, and was certain he could see her beaded nipples creasing the front of her dress. Their attentive position had nothing to do with the chill in the winter air, and everything to do with the man sitting beside her.

She wanted him; up, down, on top, on bottom...she didn't care; she wanted him. Her wickedly erotic thoughts caused a pink hue to wash her cheeks, but she could not dismiss the effect he had on her. What she felt for Erik was strong, explosive, and terrifying; terrifying only because she was on the verge of losing control with him. The brief thrill of feeling his body against hers when he had wrestled her the night they had met...what a tease that had been – a bite size morsel on a giant candy bar.

She wanted more; and she _was_ her daddy's girl. He had taught her to never back down from something she wanted; never think she couldn't have it because there were seemingly insurmountable obstacles in the way. His mantra still held true to this day: Pragmatism – first you look at things from a clear prospective with an open mind; Perseverance – set a course, know your limitations, and know your desired outcome; Patience – diligently go the distance, wisely avoiding any disturbing influence, and surround yourself with positive people and energy; his creed had never failed him and she was certain it would never fail her.

Of course, on the way to church was not the time to be planning a seduction; but God knew her heart better than anyone, and there was no sense in trying to hide anything from Him. _I've known him a total of two days...Lord...is this possible? Could I be feeling this intense about him when it took me years to feel a fraction of this for Raoul?_

As was most often His way with her, a comforting, peace-inspiring voice sounded in her mind; instructing, guiding, and teaching her – all she had to do was listen with her heart. Erik was busy talking on his phone again, which meant that Christine had the chance to "hear" with her heart while her eyes never left him.

_He's lost, Father....so very lost._

_**Yes, but I am the Great Shepherd and I seek My lost sheep...My grace is sufficient.**_

_Am I strong enough to battle the enemy that holds him captive?_

_**No, My child, not by yourself. Remember, with Me all things are possible...just trust and believe.**_

_Forgive me of my sins...the divorce and not trusting You; and countless others._

Instead of His quiet, encompassing voice in her heart, she felt Him moving in her mind and she recalled the words of one of her favorite Christian songs...

_It happened so long ago_ _And I cried out for mercy back then._ _I plead the blood of Jesus_ _Begged Him to forgive my sin._ _But I still can't forget it_ _It just won't go away._ _So I wept again, "Lord wash my sin,"_ _But this is all He'd say,_ _What sin, what sin?_ _Well that's as far away as the east is from the west._ _What sin, what sin?_ _It was gone the very minute you confessed_ _Buried in the sea of forgetfulness._ _The heaviest thing you'll carry_ _Is a load of guilt and shame._ _You were never meant to bear them_ _So let them go in Jesus name._ _Our God is slow to anger_ _Quick to forgive our sin_ _So let Him put them under the blood_ _Don't bring them up again._ _Cause He'll just say,_ _Lord, please deliver me from my accusing memory._ _Nothing makes me weak this way, then when I hear you say,_ _What sin, what sin?_ _Well that's as far away as the east is from the west._ _What sin, what sin?_ _It was gone the very minute you confessed_ _Buried in the sea of forgetfulness.***_ ***"What Sin?" by Morgan Cryar; .com/watch?v=qaMIeOKQVDs

As the words ended in her mind and Erik pulled into the parking lot of the church, Christine swallowed the tears that were misting her eyes and making it difficult to keep from shouting for joy. She quickly composed herself and smiled at him.

"Thank you for bringing me...." she couldn't help brushing her hair back behind her ear, a sure sign of flirtation, "...be careful, Mr. Miklos, you're on the verge of actually coming across as a nice guy."

_What a dastardly thought! _Erik silently gasped. His double-crossing lips just happened to curve up at her teasing and he found himself wishing she would touch him...somewhere...anywhere. But instead of entertaining such ridiculous yearnings, he simply nodded and watched her exit the car. He noticed the smiling and friendly faces that greeted her as she walked toward the large sanctuary and wondered how it felt to be so openly accepted by the public.

Why wouldn't they accept her...she's gorgeous. He told himself. They wouldn't be so accepting of someone like me.

As he pulled off, loneliness ate at him. Lately, it had been haunting him every day, more and more. Even in a house full of people with something going on every minute of every day...he was still lonely; he was just lonely with noise. She made him long for things that he knew were beyond his reach, normal things; like a wife and children of his own.

Hardening his heart against the poisonous desires that tried to penetrate it, Erik squeezed the steering wheel with a vice-like grip...he needed to vent his pent-up frustrations and thankfully, he knew just the place to go.

TBC

Disclosure: I do not own any of the characters, plot sequences (if any), or any other part of "Phantom of the Opera", or "Ironman".


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry, I didn't realize how long it had been...

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 8, an hour later...

It was a good day for a race; even if the only thing you were racing was yourself. The weather, always slightly unpredictable in south Texas, was a balmy 72 degrees with winds out of the north at about five miles per hour. In a word, it was gorgeous.

The lake was calm and glassy; resembling hard, dark rain-drenched stone. The day was still young, so few people were about and Erik strode eagerly toward the dock that housed his baby. Cobalt blue with pearl white accents, the SBI 2700 Bowrider had been a retreat for him on many occasions. It was a local haven for him, allowing him to put the world behind him and feel the wind in his hair as he sped over the crystal surface of the water.

Just the sight of the beautiful blue and white speed boat lifted Erik's spirit. If he had a mistress in this life, she would be it. Della had affectionately dubbed the beautiful marine vehicle Ariel; for reasons that escaped Erik. The sweet hum of her Volvo Penta engine and the exciting lift of her body on the wind as she sailed over the water....magnificent! It was as close to joy as Erik ever got.

"She's ready for you Erik; I spent the last hour getting her prepped for you, so I'm going out too."

Erik looked at the man approaching him; at six feet, five and a half inches tall, Thaxton Barclay was an intimidating man. Black as night, with dread locks that hung to the middle of his back, he was one of only two men Erik could call friend. They had an understanding of sorts; at least that's what Thax called it.

Thax patted his buddy on the back, remembering quite clearly the night they had met. Although he was a force to be reckoned with now, it hadn't always been that way. Poor and uneducated, Thax had fled Jamaica when his parents were killed by radical dissidents. He'd had no concept of money or how to make it in the world; he had been all of thirteen.

Lost and alone on the streets of Miami, he had been hungry enough to eat rat – raw, cooked – it really didn't matter, and would have had he not gotten interrupted by three thugs out to score an easy kill. They'd prowled around him as if he were nothing more than a bothersome insect; their wild eyes seeing him as their key into the most powerful gang in South Florida.

They'd screamed at him in a language Thax couldn't comprehend and then slowly pulled whips and knives out of their thick coats. They'd gotten a few good licks in before a dark, looming figure warned them away. He'd spoken their language and had looked twice as threatening as they had; and although they'd seemed desperate, they hadn't been stupid.

The weapon he'd wielded was a sword, long and fabulously sharp. To Thax, it had looked like something out of a fantasy novel and the man apparently knew how to use it. His stance alone was enough to make the thugs wet themselves, and they'd wisely backed away before the stranger could make any more threats upon them…although he had not said more than a few words.

Thax lay on the street, bleeding and bruised, but otherwise unharmed. He trembled slightly as the dark stranger came to stand over him, but all the man did was offer his hand as a respite to the young man.

"You were soon to be dinner on a stick for those mutants…I am glad I happened about when I did."

The voice had been low and pleasantly deep; soothing and inexplicably relaxing. Thax had felt the power in the man's grip and had known there was hidden inner strength in his calm exterior; but strangely, Thax remembered feeling that he was safer in this man's presence then he would have been anywhere else.

When he'd finally stood beside the tall stranger, Thax had chanced a better look at him. Framed by the night, he'd been unable to see the man's face, but he'd felt the steely, raw strength of him penetrate the coolness of the air. There had been and still was a pull of confidence in his uneven steps and he'd seemed untouched by the slow rain that had been falling.

Thax had stood there shivering in the rain, but before he'd had a chance to say anything, the man he now knew as Erik had wrapped Thax's shivering, skinny frame in the folds of his long, leather coat and had started walking. Silent and yet somehow connected, that night was the beginning of a deep and lasting relationship between the two pained people.

That had been ten years ago.

Thax's prickly, empathetic nerves were tingling as Erik neared him. There was raw sense of desperation that seemed to ride his shoulders and a weariness that was completely out of character for the man Thax had never seen backed into a corner.

"My braa, what is wrong with the i?" Thax asked, his Jamaican accent heavily overdone…since he had all but lost it.

Erik cocked his head as though completely lost to his question, but they both knew what the other was thinking most of the time. However, Erik was pretty certain that Thax had no idea what was on his mind. As each moment passed, Erik was more convinced he had taken complete leave of his good sense. He had never been masochistic, but he had to crave some sort of infinite pain to be attracted to Miss Drummond. Why now…why her?

He had never considered himself a coward, but the idea of being close to her again and not acting on the deep, intrinsic need he felt to touch her made him tremble within. He called himself every foul name in the book and frowned ferociously and stepped over into the boat, seating himself behind the steering wheel.

Thaxton watched the play of emotions that crossed Erik's features as both men untied the boat and stepped aboard. To the public, they probably seemed an odd couple of guys to have formed such a close bond...but there were few things that came between them.

One thing that threatened to, if Erik allowed it, was Thax's wife, Isis.

Erik never intruded when the two of them were together; he avoided going over to Thax's house when Isis was there only because he was afraid she wouldn't like him if she got to know him. Thax had tried to introduce him to her a few months ago, but Erik had easily dodged that bullet, hoping it never came up again.

He supposed deep down inside, he was jealous; but he was happy for Thax...he really was.

"I'm fine Thax…don't ask." Erik warned, his voice enough of a deterrent for anyone…except Thax.

"I don't dink so; are the i tryin' fe kill yourself?"

Thax almost laughed at the absurdity of his accent; Erik's response was more like a growl. "If I really thought I could succeed at such a thing, I'd have been dead years ago; but it seems I'm stuck here to bear the constant intrusion into my life of mongrels such as you."

Had it been any other man that said such a thing, Thax would have dealt him a blow that would have knocked him into the next week, but Erik was a different story. Thax knew that when the man said such things, there was something very disturbing going on in that brilliant mind of his.

"Oh, so now I'm a mongrel...last week I was vermin! I'm actually movin' up de run-dung chain!"

Erik couldn't help but chuckle at the man's crazy accent. He could be himself around Thax and he never expected him to be something he wasn't. He didn't have to worry about failing his niece and nephew; he didn't have to worry about pulling Ms. Drummond into his embrace and feeling her stiffen in revulsion at the contact; he didn't have to worry about disappointing himself and everyone else.

He could be the boy he had never had the chance to be.

Thax would never judge him; Thax would never betray him.

Whether he deserved it or not, Erik had a lifetime friend in the younger man. There was ten years between them and several shades difference in their skin color…but they were brothers; in all ways but blood.

Erik sighed loudly and rubbed his hands together to ward off the slight chill as he turned the key to start the engines. It was a lovely day, the unseasonal warmth of the sun caressed Erik's back and he was tempted to remove his shirt, but for the sake of modesty he kept it on.

"There are only two things in life that I know of that make a man this glum..." Thax stated, very sure of himself, "…money and women; the lack of the first, or the rejection of the latter." Thax offered, losing his accent and speaking like the educated man that he now was.

Erik lifted his chin and glared at his friend, but he didn't refute his wisdom.

"Tell me I'm wrong." He challenged, leveling his black eyes on Erik, daring him to speak. "I know it's not money, you have more than enough to live comfortably for the remaining years of your life and the life to come…so it must be a woman."

What was the use…Erik knew he couldn't hide his thoughts or his conflicting emotions from this man. He, of all the people Erik had come in contact with through the years, was the most perceptive, the most insistent, and the most irritating; not to mention that Erik loved him like a brother....even more so now that Gregori was gone.

"Don't push me, Thax...I'm not in the mood."

Thax, not even acknowledging the warning, arched a dark brow and narrowed his amused, black eyes, "So it is a woman…it's about time."

Erik glared again, this time Thax could almost feel the rancor coming from him, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Shrugging his giant shoulders, Thax brushed off the sour drip of Erik's mood, "I don't plan on being the one present to nurse you in your old age, my brother…I will not fetch your glasses, your slippers, or your teeth! You need a wife, Erik…you know it and I know it."

If looks could kill, Thax would be lying in a coffin and Erik would be spitting on him from a tall precipice; arrogantly smug, and laughing as he did so.

"You know I'm right." Thax said with only a hint of pride.

"What should I do, pray tell, knock a woman over the head with my club and drag her back to the cave by her hair?"

"Your sarcasm is only making my point." Thax stated. He might as well have poured salt on an open wound. Erik clenched his fists and then did all he could to tune out his friend. Without another word, he started the engine and roared away from the docking area...hoping the wind would remove all ridiculous desire from his body and mind.

Thax continued to observe his stern, rigid-backed friend and almost rolled his eyes in amused frustration. Erik was his own worst enemy and made mountains out of mole hills most of the time. He would never understand why Erik was so hateful to himself. Sure, like any man, he captured the attention of some women and others totally ignored him, but Erik seemed to think that the only reason some women looked at him was because they were shocked at his appearance; sometimes Thax couldn't understand how an intelligent man like Erik could miss the obvious.

Now, finally, Erik had met a woman who had grabbed _his_ attention...an appreciative, surprised smirk graced Thax's handsome features before he turned his eyes heavenward and whispered, "I _have_ to meet this woman."

۞۞۞

As Christine settled herself into Della's Cadillac SUV, her cell phone rang. The number wasn't one she recognized, but she flipped the cover anyway. Raoul's voice on the other end still shot a tremor through her that she had hoped would be gone by now.

Della gave her a sideways glance that seemed to indicate that talking on the phone was forbidden, but only to her. Christine offered a tentative smile as she greeted her ex-husband with a strained, slightly irritated voice.

"Raoul...we have nothing left to say to each other...."

"_...come on Christine, this isn't funny anymore...come home so we can talk this through rationally."_

"Talk what through rationally?"

The man actually sighed; the irritation still rampant.

"_This ridiculous divorce and the freezing of all my funds...they kicked me out, Chrissy...ME! Come on girl, you know you love me."_

Christine could hear the frustration and disbelief in his voice; and what surprised her most, was the complete indifference she felt toward him and his amusing predicament.

"No, THEY didn't kick you out, Raoul..." Christine stated, wishing she could see the look on his face, "....I did."

She chanced a quick glance at Della, only to find a rather pleased, "at-a-girl" smile curving over her lips.

She heard an almost undetectable catch in Raoul's breathing; his voice took on that manipulative, soft, cooing tone that he was certain would render her completely helpless against his charm.

"_Christine, Honey, we can work this through...you know you can't find anyone better at this than me...your father knew it."_

How dare he bring her father into this...Raoul had purposefully wheedled his way into Wayne Drummond's life and, eventually, his family. Christine swallowed the biting retort she had originally planned, bit her tongue, and tried to settle her nerves with a deep breath...counting to ten so as not to reach through the phone and strangle him.

"Raoul, there are so many ways that I'm over you....believe me. I refuse to settle for a man who is a cheater – in many ways; a man who takes me for granted and assumes I'm just some ornamental knickknack he can bring out every now and then to please him and provide him with a monthly allowance."

Boy, was she on a roll...the adrenalin just kept pumping through her and words just kept flowing.

"I wanted children, Raoul, but that was too much to ask from you. You were too busy doing my secretaries and stealing my money that you didn't have time to devote to starting a family. Which I'm grateful for now... thank you."

She was stunned at the sarcastic, caustic words that were being flung at him by her. Deep down, she had known it would eventually come down to having words with him, but she had never thought she would be the one doing the talking.

"_Children..."_ She heard him mock, "_....you have always known that I didn't want children, Princess, that was never a problem until recently, when you decided to go all 'nesting' on me."_

Whenever he called her "Princess", Christine knew he was purposefully trying to tick her off...and it worked every time. She pushed her fury down, deeper within her, mentally daring him to call her one more derogatory thing before she snapped. She kept chanting in her mind, _I used to love this man, I used to love this man, I used to love this man... _it was so tempting to just hang up on him.

"If you had ever bothered to listen to me, you would know it wasn't something new, Raoul; I wanted children from the beginning." She replied calmly.

His laugh was biting and full of piety, "_They are nothing but problems, so unruly, and expensive..."_ he laughed again, "..._I never want children."_

"I'm done, Raoul...don't call me again..." Christine stated, still with an amazing amount of calm in her voice, "...in fact, I'm canceling my cell phone service."

This time, she did hang up.

Della looked over at her as they pulled into the driveway, "That sounded rather final."

Christine looked toward the window, but now before Della caught the tremble in her chin.

"I think it's time we got to know each other more."

Della placed an assuring hand on the younger woman's forearm. Christine turned a wilting smile and moisture filled eyes toward her. Della winked and made the next exit, the second left, and then pulled into a small, secluded park that Christine had not known was there or she would have taken the children.

The car came to a stop and Della turned it off, then she turned her entire attention to the young woman in the seat beside her.

"Spill it." Della ordered with an understanding smile on her face. "Who is this man that just called you and wiped the happiness right off your face?"

Silence ensued for a few moments; Christine had few people in her life that she trusted with her emotions; few whom she considered friends. It wasn't easy being the daughter of a millionaire and suddenly being thrust into the leadership role as she had been. Although she had been prepared for it since childhood, she had not ever expected to be at the helm...she had hoped her father would live forever and she could have remained his faithful apprentice.

"He was my husband until about five days ago." There, she'd finally said it aloud so that her ears could send the reality of it to her brain.

Della saw the glistening tears, "And you loved this man."

The statement brought Christine's eyes up to meet Della's and her sad smile only made the tears draw closer to spilling over and running down her cheeks.

"It started out that way; but I haven't been in love with him for months now." There was a slight bitterness seeping through in her tone, but Della sensed she needed to say more, "I don't cry because I miss him, I cry because I lost the greater part of five years to a man whose only purpose seemed to be stealing from me and cheating on me."

She drew her hands into fists and clenched them so tight that her skin was turning white. Della could see the angry tension in her jaw and feel it in the air.

The entire sordid tale was out before Christine could stop herself. It had been so long since she'd had someone in which to confide; she wasn't sure she could have stopped had she wanted to.

"I can't deal with him anymore, Della; he doesn't respect me or my position in the company; he's always degrading me and trying to bring me down to his level..." Christine lifted her chin and held it up with a stubborn determination, "...I don't know why I gave him as much of myself as I did, I knew he was bad news long ago."

Della lifted her brows in agreement, "Pretty boy looks, sharp tongue, killer charm....I guess men can be as ruthless with their looks as a woman can be. More and more of them are sleeping their way up the corporate ladder much as women did a couple of decades ago."

A sudden bout of nausea swept over Christine and she opened the door for some air, only to spill the contents of her stomach onto the gravel. She was utterly embarrassed as she tried to compose herself and shut the door.

Della's brow was creased in concern; her hand going to Christine's forehead to check for fever. She reached for the bottle of water she had been drinking and handed it to her.

"You don't feel warm. Are you feeling sick still, or did that seem to take care of the problem?"

Christine took a sip, cleaning her mouth out first and than taking a long drink. She was starting to get concerned.

"I've been feeling ill on and off for a couple of days now..." Christine admitted, "...I was hoping it would have been gone by now."

Della, always the voice of reason, lifted a brow and waved a mothering finger at the young woman, "Maybe you should see a doctor, that's always the best step when you can't explain what's going on."

Christine felt thoroughly chastised, "I'll go tomorrow. Do you know a good doctor?"

Della started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, "Of course, she's the best doctor there is."

They went to the nearest Starbucks and had a wonderful cup of coffee and then turned toward home. Christine's shoulders felt lighter and burdened was less constricting; she felt like she had come home in a strange sort of way.

Della had told her the latest on her car; it would be the end of the week before she could have it back. By then, she would have her funds back in order and she would be able to pay for the repairs.

Then what was she going to do?

Leaving didn't seem as appealing as it should have. It didn't matter at all that he was the complete opposite of Raoul in so many ways, Erik had captured her completely without even gracing her with a touch. So damaged and yet so utterly gorgeous; dark, brooding, and beastly at times; she wanted him in a way that defied logic.

He seemed intent on avoiding her most of the time and there was a child-like vulnerability to him that softened the harshness that always seemed a part of him. His eyes pulled her in, even the right one with its blind center; she'd never seen such a shade of blue/green before. There was such sadness swirling in them and an ancient wisdom that a man in his thirties shouldn't possess.

She had spoken with Paul just last night and all seemed to be running smoothly right now. There was no need for her to rush back to Dallas; the man was more than capable of handling everything and had more than proven himself to her on many occasions. She'd never been away from the demands of her heiress lifestyle for long, and never been dependent on anyone but her parents – and only on them when she was younger.

It seemed a bit like a fairytale; pretending to be a penniless waif with only the few clothes she had carried with her and very little money to her name. What would Erik do when he found out she had more money than she could spend in one lifetime and was the CEO/CFO of a major pharmaceuticals company....HER pharmaceutical company?

All she knew was that she wanted to know him...really know him. So why not stay?

It was obvious Erik needed her in his life. Delaney had more than hinted to the fact that he'd never had a girlfriend; had never even spent more than a couple of hours in the company of a woman other than her. Although that seemed hard for her to believe at first, Christine could see how he seemed ashamed of his blindness and the scars that marred his flesh. More than once, she'd seen him cover the right side of his face as though hiding from anyone or anything that could look upon him.

They were on their way home after an afternoon of talking and laughing when Christine let her thoughts slip unhindered from her mouth.

"Every time I'm near him, I sense that Erik expects me to hurl insults at him or stare in disgust at him..." she hadn't lifted her eyes to look at Della just yet; she looked out the window at the passing landscape, hoping that she wasn't coming across as nosy, "...why is that? Have those things happened in the past?"

Della shrugged her shoulders as they pulled onto the highway headed home, "Erik is a complicated man in many ways; he has a brilliant mind, numerous talents that he could have pursued as a means to make a living, wisdom beyond his years..." Christine had to agree with all those things, although she wasn't sure what talents he possessed. The children had indicated he could sing, but that was all they had said. "...but affairs of the heart have eluded him."

"Why?"

Della seemed hesitant to answer. "I think you may need to ask him if you want the answers."

"Fair enough, but what are his talents?"

Della laughed lightly, "The man can sing like an angel and write the music to go along with it. He's one of the top composers on the local circuit of theaters and he won't allow his music to leave the South Texas Guild or he'd be world famous by now. He can sculpt, paint, draw; he's a great photographer and swordsman...and who knows what else."

Christine could feel her heart thudding excitedly in her chest; he was more than talented; the man was gifted. Music would be her path to him, she could bring him to her side with it...get him to open up. Somehow she had to draw him out of his protective shell and get him to look at her as more than just a house-guest.

A deep, mischievous smile suddenly appeared on her face, "Della, tomorrow I need to go clothes shopping...." the smile hit her eyes and she felt like she had been infused with the knowledge of seduction, "...I don't have one single thing in my wardrobe that would appeal to the opposite sex...not one single thing."

Della smiled and quirked a brow, "One killer wardrobe coming up...but first, we see the doctor."

_Finally,_ Della thought, _a woman who sees Erik as more than a rich, eccentric man with connections. She's strong, independent, and rich in her own right; a woman of means that doesn't want or need Erik's money ...she needs him as a woman needs a man._

It was about time.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Hello again...and Happy Mother's Day to those of you with children! What a joy they are...especially grandchildren!!

More fun flirty stuff....enjoy.

CHAPTER 9, what the men are doing while the women "talk", later that same day

This was not good; he knew it instinctively, just as sure as he knew the sun would set. Surely there was nothing that Della could tell Christine that would convince the younger woman he wasn't the monster he appeared to be on the outside.

"You just _let_ them go off together..." Erik stated, casting Francois a withering look – his hand sweeping the air in frustration.. Thax stood quietly in the background, concealing the amusement on his face by cupping his hand over his mouth.

Francois leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over this chest, and an amused smirk draped over his fine mouth.

"Actually Erik, if we are going to point fingers, it was you who sent them off together by arranging for Della to pick the young lady up from church..." his smirk was in serious jeopardy of becoming a full fledged chuckle, "...there's really no one to blame but you." Francois shared an amused look with Thax before continuing. "Besides, Della would never do anything to jeopardize your chances with the little lady."

Scathingly lancing Francois with his hard stare, Erik considered his options – pacing the floor with agitated steps. Why couldn't things just go smoothly...just once....was that too much to ask? Lifting his eyes to the two men invading his home, Erik took a deep breath to calm the thrumming in his veins. They were supposed to be his friends...HIS FRIENDS! Did friends do this to each other?

Erik stressed his concern in a deceptively calm voice, "When all is said and done, Della is a woman, and I am by no means the epitome of male perfection in her eyes or anyone else's. How can I be sure that she isn't filling Christine in on all of my flaws, both visible and not so visible?"

There he'd done it....he'd struck them silent. Feeling proud of this achievement, Erik smugly smirked at both of them, feeling convinced he had a right to his trepidation.

After a few more moments of silent gloating, Erik frowned, stopping his pacing to gaze at his friends once again. The more he thought about it, he realized it was really obsessive of him to think they were talking about him at all; why did he think Christine would even want to know anything about him? He had to admit she was at least civil to him, that was more than many people were; and it really threw him off his game to think about it.

But just because she was civil to him did not mean she wanted to get to know him...he understood that better than anyone.

"Honestly Erik, I don't know why you don't just tell her you're interested."

Thax still leisurely leaned against the counter beside Francois; looking like an unassuming giant, both men trying desperately to reach a place in Erik that neither one of them was certain existed to begin with.

Erik stood, bemused and dumbfounded, wondering which was worse; the fact that Francois was correct in his assessment, or the fact that Thax seemed to think the woman would care that he was interested.

He raked his hand through his rumpled hair, asking himself why it mattered so much if Della did divulge any information about him to her; after all, he had nothing to hide. What disturbed him most, was the fact that he WANTED her to be curious about him; he WANTED her to ask questions that would spark her interest in him.

Which was exactly why he felt the pounding pressure of a headache coming on. Erik lifted his hands in surrender and left the room, leaving Thax and Francois shrugging their shoulders and on the verge of laughing. There was nothing but insanity that could have reduced him to this...nothing.

Lost in the self-mocking talk down he was giving himself in his mind, Erik swept passed the two small shadows that sat painfully still on the couch, watching and listening to everything going on around them.

Peyton and Paige sat demurely, having listened to every word that floated their direction from the kitchen. They had often shared a look of delight, completely surprised to find their uncle in such an uproar over someone as harmless as Miss Drummond. When he had floated by them without knowing they were there, they had felt like the little spies they both liked to pretend that they were.

Once they were certain he was headed up the stairs, they ran to the edge of the doorway to watch him move quietly up them toward his third floor refuge. He slipped silently into this conservatory and closed the door behind him; locking the world and all its cruelty outside.

The bold, glistening black, grand piano that sat center room seemed to beckon him into a world he had avoided for months; a world that held all his pain and secrets, only allowing them to surface within the gilded prison of his music.

By a power unknown to him, Erik's legs moved toward the instrument without regard to his personal resolve to abandon music for other endeavors that left him less....touched. Music ate at him...from the inside out. It left him stripped and naked before an audience of ghost-like memories; as though the story of his life was being displayed for all to see without his permission.

He lowered himself onto the bench, trembling within at the thought of once again feeling the cool, hard surface of the ivory keys beneath his fingertips. He envisioned notes in his mind that he knew would create a melody so pure that Christine would swear it had come from heaven.

His worst fears were realized as Music taunted him; drawing him further into its web of intrigue and eternal wisdom. There was no escape – not really. Sure, he could squander the brilliance that resided within him; he could purposely ignore the intrinsic need that pounded through his body at the mere thought of writing again. For too long he had done just that...

...but not anymore; he'd had enough of the pain it caused to last two lifetimes. He could no more remove it from his internal make-up as to stop his heart from beating; he had nothing to fear but fear itself...that's what he'd always heard anyway.

Silently sliding his fingers over the keys, Erik closed his eyes. Reverently, the melody moved through him; from soul, to fingertips, to vocal chords...

"_I step across the danger line  
And feel this crazy heart of mine  
Go midnight blue.  
Somewhere an angel sheds a tear  
For all the beauty and the fear  
Of loving you.  
It's true that only heaven knows  
The way love comes and goes  
But I don't have heaven's eyes  
I've seen too many sad goodbyes._

_Don't leave me lonely  
Don't leave me blue  
Don't leave me loving you  
Don't leave me loving you _

_Through the shadows of my doubt  
I see the love I've lived without  
Shine in your eyes.  
But love can break the truest heart  
And leave it in the deepest dark  
If the fire dies.  
It's up to us to tend the flame  
Don't let the wind and rain  
Keep you from holding on  
Baby, please be strong._

_Don't leave me lonely  
Don't leave me blue  
Don't leave me loving you  
Don't leave me loving you***_

***"Don't Leave Me Lonely", by Lari White and Chuck Cannon

As soon as the song had left him, Erik put it to paper; leaving his deepest and most secret thoughts exposed to the world so that it could make of them what it wished. It would no doubt brand him a fool for even entertaining the idea...

...he was in love with her after only a couple of days? Absurd? Yes, but that didn't change it; nor did it ease the ache of that love that wedged itself between his lecherous, wayward heart and the blackened soul that he thought he'd lost long ago.

Reasonable thought escaped him as to why it had to be her...and why now? She was exasperatingly beautiful, but she seemed determined to downplay her beauty as though it were a curse; dressing in baggy pants and t-shirts – except for this morning – what a sight she had been in a skirt; even if it had extended past her knees and covered all areas of interest to him. She was petite in stature – compared to him - but all that he had felt nudged against him that one glorious time, promised tantalizing, soft curves that he had feasted upon more than once in his dreams.

Just thinking about it had him in a state of arousal.

Angry at himself and more than a little sexually frustrated, Erik pounded out Beethoven's Fifth Symphony with no effort whatsoever. He had memorized the entire piece years ago, but it stayed with him as a means of therapy.

۞۞۞

Hours later, Erik was still drowning his frustrations in the strong drug that was Beethoven, Debussy, and Mendelssohn. So lost was he in the beauty of it, that he did not hear the voices in the hallway.

Not caring if he knew she was there, Christine had quietly opened the door and now stood in front of the conservatory, mesmerized by the display of talent that was resounding off the walls and swirling around her.

Della had not been telling a crazy story nor exaggerating the truth when she spoke of Erik's abilities. He was in a word, magnificent. Watching him entirely surrender to the seductive sway of the music left her breathless and desirous; what a man he was. The mastery in his fingers alone made her ache to have him embrace her and run those long, elegant hands over her body with an expertise she knew he would possess – even without the experience Della had indicated he didn't have.

His shirt was loose, having pulled away from the confines of his slacks and the sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms sprinkled with dark hairs that teased her hungry eyes. Her mouth went dry as she felt her legs moving closer to him, as though they had a mind of their own. Even through the material of his shirt, Christine could see the play of corded muscle beneath it and it was all she could do not to reach out and run her hand over the broad stretch of his shoulders.

The room, despite its size, was currently bathed in moonlight, inviting and romantic; so unlike the other parts of the house which seemed to reflect the brooding, dark moods that settled over him most of the time. It was as if these walls absorbed the pain within him and transformed it into something else entirely; something beautiful.

The entire back wall was a window, overlooking an immaculate garden patio area complete with a fountain. Even in the third week of January, it was lovely. A Blue Martin bird feeder was perched atop a tall pole in one corner of the manicured lawn, and the opposite corner consisted of two tall oak trees with a swing in the middle of them. The picturesque scene was illuminated by the bright glow of the full moon, creating a image so rare in its beauty that Christine wished she could paint it.

She didn't realize the music had stopped until she felt his eyes upon her. She still wore the clothes she had worn to church and her hair lay loose and free, framing her face adorably. Her stomach turned strange flips and knotted at the thought of seeing him, but Christine did not turn to meet his gaze. Instead, she felt him move to stand a few mere inches from her.

"I rarely invite anyone into this room, especially when I'm in it."

Christine shivered at the low, melodious beauty of his voice; there might have been the hint of a threat hidden within the words, but there was also a strong undercurrent of something far more lethal to her...loneliness laced with the desire to know love.

'This is _my_ domain...._my_ lair." He moved closer and his warm breath stirred the sensitive skin on the back of her neck, sending heated cords of yearning through her body; hardening her nipples and sending a pool of warmth through her core. "What could you possibly wish to accomplish by being here?" He loomed over her like a beautiful, dangerous bird of prey. "I don't play well with others...." he warned, the predatory scent of him heightening her senses as he drew nearer, "...I'm sure you are aware of this."

"Are you trying to frighten me?" She heard herself ask, barely recognizing the husky timbre in her voice. Before she could stop herself, Christine drew in his scent, savoring it like a rare Cuban cigar; dang it all, he smelled of dark seduction; black silk sheets, flickering candle light undulating erotically on the shadowed wall, rose petals covering a pool of water glistening in the moonlight.

Her eyes closed, reacting to the rapid speed of her beating heart. She felt him...all of him...although he hadn't touched her. The baritone of his soft laugh shimmered over her flesh, hanging like a whispered endearment just at the brink of her right ear, "Do you think you're in danger?"

Every nerve ending was on alert. Christine felt her entire being tremble in anticipation of something...anything he would do to her. Very little in the world frightened her; but right then, in that moment, Christine feared he would NOT touch her, would not quench this torturous thirst he caused within her.

Erik had no idea what made him so bold. All he could focus on was the mocha-colored strands of her hair that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight; the heady mix of midnight forest and sensual musk that seemed to cling to her skin, and the sweet pull of something completely unknown to him – an instinctive longing to touch her, no matter the cost.

She turned into him, making him vulnerable to her soft, penetrating eyes. Erik stood his ground, refusing to back away as though threatened by her nearness; instead, he advanced on her, expecting her to recoil into the shadows.

Shocked that she hadn't, Erik remained poised to defend himself against the viperous insults he was certain were going to start at any moment. Instead, she moved closer to him; her body's natural heat touching him as intimately as a lover's caress.

"In danger of what, Erik..." She whispered up at him, the heels on her boots allowing her head to come to just below his chin, "...following my instincts and doing what I've wanted to do since I had you pinned beneath me?"

The soft glow of the moon tenderly bathed his features and Christine could see the confused crease in his forehead that accompanied the lift of his brow.

Erik's entire male circuitry was attuned to her. He sensed she wanted something from him; something around which his mind couldn't wrap itself but for which his body pulsed and hardened. He couldn't...wouldn't allow his throbbing need for her to escalate into something that would bring embarrassment and humiliation to him...he would not!

But his body was infused with the scent of her...and she seemed to sway toward him as though she eagerly longed for and awaited his touch. Of course, Erik knew it was just misinterpretation on his part; a woman such as Christine was used to male perfection, she had to be; and he was FAR from perfect, in every way.

_It isn't fair to her...._ Erik thought, _...she deserves far more than my amateur kisses and rigid incompetence. She deserves the best._

Before he lost any more of himself in her warm eyes, Erik deliberately pulled away, "I apologize, Ms. Drummond...." he headed back to the piano, "....for scaring you." Erik drew his hands in to fists as he dragged himself away from her; waging a war with the hammering need raging through him. He was in control....he was always in control.

Christine felt the flames that seemed to dance between them; a raging inferno of desire that breathed with a life of its own. Knowing what little she knew about him, Christine understood the distance he seemed determined to keep from her. Before he could move out of her reach, she gently grasped his hand, stopping him as effectively as she would have had she stripped down to her bare skin before him.

"Don't leave." She pleaded, her voice barely a whisper to him. "I need to ask a favor of you."

The softness and warmth of her petite hand seemed to seep into the savage loneliness of his soul. Erik had never been touched in such a way; with tenderness and familiarity. This tiny hummingbird of a woman had rendered him immovable with just a sweep of her skin against his; and now, she was about to ask something of him. If she would never stop touching him, Erik would refuse her nothing.

There was something flickering like dark embers in his fathomless eyes; tremors passed through her as he slowly cornered her, pushing her back against the glossy, granite surface of the grand piano. Their hands were still meshed, but as he leaned into her, he brought them up to act as a barrier between his hard, sculpted body and her soft, lush contours.

"You _do _fear me, Hummingbird, I feel you trembling." A sad lift to his mouth added a tincture of loneliness to his words and at that moment Christine decided to do whatever it took to convince him he wasn't the monster he seemed to think himself.

The hand that rested innocently encased in his easily slipped onto the silky surface of his shirt and she felt the heat of him through the material. With the veil of the night concealing him from her hungry eyes, Christine made use of the subtle touch receptors in her fingers. Her body hummed in appreciation as she remembered the corded muscles of his chest the night they had shared cheesecake; what a loss it had been when he had drawn the robe closed, thwarting her view.

When her fingers began to move over his chest, Erik almost pushed away from her; but something in her eyes and the worshipful way she touched him made him hold as still as a statue. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he was enjoying the feel of her against him. If he were a more experienced man, Erik would had sworn she wanted him to kiss her....but that was ludicrous, wasn't it? Of course, just the idea of touching his lips to hers sent a race of panic through him. He had never kissed anyone...not like that; a peck on the cheek at the end of an evening full of fake smiles and pretend affections, a sweep of tight lips across an upturned hand when he was feeling especially chivalrous, that was it; nothing like the kiss he longed to share with Christine.

"There are many types of trembles, Erik....many types...." She finally acknowledged, still gently palpating his hard, muscular chest. "...and I assure you...." he felt his body react instantly when she whispered against his neck; her sweet breath caressing his starving flesh as softly as butterfly wings and sending a warm shock of desire straight to his groin, "...what I'm feeling right now is NOT fear."

His heart was beating so hard against the drum of his chest that Erik was certain she could hear it. He couldn't remember a time when his body had been so alive, so aggressively alert with desire that for a moment he yielded to it's sensual pull. But reason returned in full force just seconds before he actually took possession of her mouth.

"Christine, why are you here?" He finally asked, moving from her without pushing her away.

She sensed his unease before he moved and decided to give him more time; he would not be able to pull away when the time was right. Quelling the need to touch him, Christine watched him clinch his hands into fists and breathe a frustrated sigh. He was dealing with the same untamed needs that she was, he just didn't know he could act on them.

"I want you to teach me to play the piano and sing."

Turning toward her, Erik had not expected that answer. He was unprepared for the confusion that creased his forehead and then lifted his dark brow.

"From what I have heard, you sing quite beautifully as it is...." Erik responded, hoping she would change her mind, "...there is not much that I could teach you."

She smiled, a coy turn of her lips that shot threw him; her aim like that of a seasoned pro. He almost growled in response to his body's lack of fortitude. This was going to quickly get on his last nerve.

"There is a great deal that I could learn from you, and I want to learn from you....and I can only read music, I have never even touched a piano."

The piano was a different thing altogether. Erik had never taught anyone to play. Wasn't even sure he could teach someone to play. Why did she pick him, right now....there were other people out there far more qualified than he was and they wouldn't have the added distraction of being attracted to her? It was almost laughable, but he kept the amusement out of his features.

"Christine, I am not a teacher....you need to find someone who is qualified to do that...." he tried to sound sincere, although the thought of sitting beside her on the piano bench and accidentally touching her caused a strange sense of peace to fall over him. "....besides, you're not even going to be here that long."

"I'll be here as long as I need to be here." She retorted, "And I can think of no one more qualified than you are."

Her snooty, know-it-all expression struck him as funny, and he broke out into a full-hearted laugh. He seldom indulged in such idiocy, having little in his life to laugh about, but she seemed intent on changing him into a babbling fool.

Laughing as he spoke, he had no idea how stunning he was, "Obviously you don't know many people if you think I'm the most qualified..." he put a hand up to stifle her opinion before she said it, "...but for the sake of argument, just how long do you intend to stay around this area?"

She would have to tell him her intentions before too much time went by, but she was just made aware of them herself....so she put him off a little while longer.

"I have a pretty flexible schedule right now, I have no immediate plans to go anywhere...." she caught the surprise in his eyes and wondered what he was thinking, "...so I think it's a perfect opportunity to do this, and we can actually get better acquainted too."

He was thinking this was either going to be the best experience of his life or the worst mistake of all time....he just prayed that he didn't loose his heart in the process of finding out; but chances were that it was already too late for that.

"I am thinking that I can hang around and watch Peyton and Paige while they are out of school and earn my keep around here. They are wonderful children, and I always wanted kids of my own...so I see it as a win-win situation."

He had no objections to any of it, but he still wasn't sure why she insisted on being around him like this....of course, chances were it really had nothing at all to do with him and everything to do with her wanting to learn to play the piano and improve her singing.

"I'll think on it....but no promises." He knew he'd give in...anything to have her near him.

He could do this, he could keep this on a business-like basis, not allowing the already devastating attraction he felt for her get any worse. He could lock his heart away, forbidding it to do something stupid like betray him and all would be well.

She turned her beguiling, soft topaz eyes to him and he was certain his heart stopped beating.

On yeah, he could do this.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Some of may find this chapter a bit cliché at first, but give me a chance; much is yet to come.

CHAPTER 10, Day 4 – Monday - mid morning to mid-afternoon

Erik sat at the breakfast table the next morning; staring broodingly into the steaming cup of coffee Francois had placed before him. Not once during the night had Erik closed his eyes but that he didn't hear his heart calling him a plethora of colorful adjectives.; it sure hadn't lent him a moments peace, so sleep had been a foolish wish.

As if his state of sleeplessness wasn't bad enough, he sat with only Peyton and Paige to keep him company, it seemed that everyone else was gone. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, if they didn't look so eager to begin the blasted day before Erik had finished his first cup of coffee; mornings were definitely NOT his thing. Their little expectant faces looked at him with hope filled eyes, actually making Erik feel uncomfortable. He wasn't the nurturing kind, that was obvious, but he didn't really know what to say to them either. They deserved so much more than him...someone worthy of them; but Gregori and Tess had appointed him their guardian for whatever reason; and although Erik had many unflattering qualities, he was not a quitter.

Nodding their direction and offering what he hoped was a smile, Erik almost panicked when they popped up out of their chairs and came toward him. Unexpectedly, they each wrapped their tiny little arms around his waist and hugged him; Paige even placing a sweet little kiss upon his forearm. He hated it when they did this to him, made him feel all mushy inside. It had been happening a great deal lately. Erik figured he must be getting soft in his old age, allowing such things to effect him. Affection had always come hard for him, having never had much experience with it, but these little ragamuffins were determined to break down every wall he had so carefully constructed to keep such weaknesses as affection away from his cold, shriveled heart.

He was certainly no prize in any category.

That's why he had managed to convince himself that Christine was playing him for a fool, it was the only logical explanation. Why would such a desirable young woman want to keep company with a scarred, virtually crippled man slipping quickly into the back side of his thirties? It made no sense to him....and things always had to make sense to him; it was part of his functional, practical mind. It was also the only way he could stay the bud of hope that bloomed in his thawing heart; he had no right to be feeling such things.

Of course, who was he trying to fool, he was going to enjoy these lessons she had asked of him...the feel of her against his aching flesh while he took in the scent of her hair and skin. However, this was the real world...she couldn't be interested in him for anything other than his musical prowess, anything else just seemed wrong to him. He quickly shut all other thoughts from his mind.

But still....for a moment last night, Erik could have sworn she was flirting with him. But to what end? Surly it was obvious to her why he didn't date or go out. But she was different, she wasn't interested in his money, that was apparent, and there was nothing else about him that would give her reason to be flirtatious. He went over the last three days in his head, detailing every moment that they had been together. He finally concluded that she was just being the friendly woman that she was, it had nothing to do with him.

Francois had cleared the table long ago and Erik vaguely remembered the children stating that they were headed upstairs to watch a Disney video or something. The clock ticked annoyingly on the wall, dragging him back into the reality that he tried so desperately to escape in many ways. One thing still bothered him, no one had been able to tell him where Della and Christine were, not that it was any of his business at this point, but he was just curious.

He needed a distraction. Hurrying up the stairs, he changed into a black tee, black work jeans, and a pair of old work boots. He went to the work shop to work on the 1965, Ruby red Mustang he had bought a few years back. The car was sweet! The body was original and in immaculate condition, the only changes Erik was making were to the engine. He enjoyed it, it helped keep him sane.

۞۞۞

Della didn't really know what to say; really...what _did_ one say? _I'm sorry that your twit of an ex-husband got you pregnant with his last round of selfish sex before he decided to do the horizontal mambo with your secretary. _

Honestly, it sounded a bit...cold.

So, Della chose not to say anything at all...not until Christine spoke.

For her part, Christine sat in the car, staring out the window for what seemed like hours before she turned to the woman beside her and offered a wary smile; you know, one of those smiles hovering somewhere between ultimate joy and stunned disbelief.

"This is just TOO funny...." she said, continuing with the same smile, "...for five years I wanted a baby, FIVE YEARS....!" she held up five fingers, as though not believing that amount of time had passed, "...and now, when my marriage is over and I have a chance to start over again..." her hand flew up in exasperation, "...now...I'm pregnant."

Della smirked, relieved that Christine seemed to be okay with it all....sort of.

"Isn't that funny?" Christine asked, more for her own benefit than anything else. "I think it's hilarious."

Wide-eyed and looking ready to jump the moon, Christine's thoughts were going a hundred miles an hour. This was the 21st century, women did have babies without a father present; but Christine didn't want that, nor did she want Raoul back in her life. He didn't deserve to know about the baby and she wasn't about to tell him. Besides, he'd just reject it, much like he had her.

"I'm going to have a baby...." Christine stated to herself in a whisper. she turned to Della and smiled, tears filling her eyes, "....I'm going to have a baby!!"

Della smiled back and nodded, feeling the joy that seemed to emanate from Christine. The doctor had indicated that she wasn't very far along – something Christine had assured Della she knew how to calculate down to the day - and that she also had a mild urinary tract infection, one reason the nausea was so bad.

"It's like a dream right now...." Christine continued, "....a wonderful dream I can't quite wrap my mind around."

How much she wanted her mother with her right now. She longed to hear her words of uplifting and assurance; to bask in the laughter her mother had always been quick to offer. They had never really discussed Christine's marriage to Raoul; choosing to leave that in a category all its own. Esmeralda Drummond had been a tiny package of passionate love and fiery determination; the kind of mother any girl would have longed to have. Christine had gotten her love of life and tiny proportions from her; her coloring was a mixture of both Wayne Drummond and the spirited Latina he had loved desperately, although the carmel-colored smoothness of her skin was all Esmeralda.

She needed the practical way her mother had of shining light on what was really going on and her words of wisdom that made any decision seem easier. Christine had been taught from a very early age to be strong minded and confident. Her parents had never coddled her or held her back because of their own limitations; instead, they had encouraged her to become her own woman, fight her own fights, and to never settle for second best.

Raoul had been second best, it was easy for her to admit now. But Erik....he was her soul mate, she knew it from the very center of her core. Three days...and she already knew that she couldn't live without him. Indeed, how had she managed without him this long? It had almost killed her to be that close to him and not feel his lips touch hers; not see the tempestuous swirling teal of his eyes look at her with desire and yearning.

"Della, I wanted to kiss him so bad last night, but he pulled away before I could. My body seems to have a mind of its own where he is concerned."

Della lifted a brow, the music of her soft chuckle filling the air, "You should have just done it...he certainly would not have objected, he's never been kissed." At Christine's shocked expression, Della shrugged her shoulders, "At least not that I know of."

Christine giggled lightly at her comment, "I find that so hard to comprehend; what's wrong with the women around here?" She didn't really leave any room for comment before she continued with her questioning, "What is wrong with me...I haven't been divorced for a full week and already I find that I can't keep Erik off my mind...I should be ashamed of myself." She wasn't the least bit sorry, looking at Della with shining, hopeful eyes. "You really think he wanted me to kiss him?"

Della scoffed with merriment, "He's a man....of course he wanted a kiss....and much more if he could get it" Della chuckled and graced her with a sheepish grin, "I''m not so sure he'd know what to do with it if he got it....but he most certainly wants it."

That put an interesting picture in Christine's mind...images of Erik being submissive to her; it made her hormones pump even more. She still found it hard to believe that he had never been with anyone – never acted on the passion she knew flowed through him. He was magnificent in his broken beauty; amazingly vulnerable and yet so strong. The idea of Erik never knowing a tender kiss to his lips; never feeling the loving embrace of a woman tore her up inside.

Angrily wiping the tears away that had dared to run down her cheeks, Christine steeled herself against the whirling emotional maelstrom that had settled in her body. Being who she was, she had been taught – coached – at an early stage in her life that a woman's emotions could be her friend or her enemy, depending on how she was able to wield them.

She had always been an expert at concealing her true emotions; a bit of an actress when need be. But the last two months had been a challenge for her. She had actually blown up in the divorce proceedings, airing her dirty laundry – so to speak – in front of total strangers. She wasn't one to solicit sympathy votes or pull the I'm-the-victim card to get her way; but it seemed that everything was just too much for her and she had actually lost it for a few agonizing moments.

"I hate myself right now...this vulnerability..." she sat up straighter and lifted her chin, "...I've never feared much of anything; my father drilled strength, commitment, dedication, and loyalty into me practically from the moment I could walk on my own. I'm fiercely competitive at everything I do; I see what I want and I go for it....and I never lie to myself. Lord willing, I will have this baby, I will have my career, and I will have Erik."

Della saw the truth of her words, glaring back at her through Christine's eyes. There was little doubt about her claim on Erik's heart.

"You're in love with him, I can see that quite easily, but are you sure you want this – it's only been four days?" Della asked, concern all over her face.

Christine nodded her head with confidence, "I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

"Then there's really only one thing left to do...." Della winked mischievously, "...bring the man to his knees."

Christine couldn't agree more; it was time to pull out all the stops; use every feminine asset she possessed, and become a part of him. Moments like this called for Platinum American Express and her card had been released; Paul had called to let her know that her finances were going to be cleared completely in the next couple of days and Raoul's access had been permanently removed. She pulled the card out of her purse and smiled broadly, "Let's go find me a dress that will knock him for a loop...one that will have him eating out of my hand." Christine was about to become super-seductress, and Erik wouldn't stand a chance. "I'm still going to play it slow, but I want him drooling over me with each passing moment."

Della winked and gave her a friendly swap on the knee, "That's my girl. You leave the rest of the evening up to me."

And off they went.

۞۞۞

_Several hours later..._

It had to have been a woman who designed tight fitting, black T-shirts and form-fitting jeans, because only a woman would know what parts on a man to showcase. Christine was the one drooling as she and Della sat in the kitchen drinking milk and piecing on Oreo cookies when Erik strode in the door after finishing working on his car for the afternoon. He had a smudge of grease on his arm and his hands were dirty, but other than that he looked positively sinful; totally man.

And good heavens...!....she was certain that the way he filled those jeans was illegal in most states! Christine closed her eyes and tried to get her hormones under control; it wouldn't do for her to jump the man and make him even more leery around her.

He immediately felt their eyes on him; aware that he probably looked worse than usual, he sped by them in hopes of avoiding any embarrassment. He thought he was free and clear until Della called his name in that certain tone that indicated she wanted his full attention.

"I have two tickets to see _Manhattan Transfer_ tonight. Thelma couldn't go, so I'm giving the tickets to you and Christine...she said they are one of her absolute favorite."

Thankfully, Erik wasn't facing her when he felt the initial shock descend on him. He was used to Della trying to set him up with someone; but usually, that _someone_ was not present when she was trying to work her magic on him.

"Why don't you and Christine go...." Erik countered, hoping Della had not offended Christine by suggesting such a thing, "...I'm sure she'd rather go with you anyway."

"You really are desperate to get out of this aren't you; besides, I've already made other plans and I don't want the tickets to go to waste."

Oh boy, she was good. Christine knew that Della had no other plans; this had been what she was doing while Christine made some purchases at the mall. The tickets were real enough, but Thelma was not. They had picked up the tickets quickly, paying hardly anything for the top seats in the house...as Erik was a top patron and financial backer of the Performing Arts Theater.

Christine had doubted the plausibility of the story concerning Thelma until Della had assured her that Erik wouldn't even question the name of her friends, he knew little to nothing about her personal life – friends, love interests, goals.....he preferred it that way.

"Let him take you out on the town and show you just how charming and gorgeous he can be...even though he will fight you tooth and nail if you tell him that." Della had said, stuffing the tickets away in her purse. From that point on, Christine had relinquished control of the situation to Della.

Erik struck Della a doubtful look, feeling as though he was falling head first into a vat of boiling oil and there was no way out. He was waiting for Christine to voice her objections, but the poor woman was suffering from shell shock or something, she just looked at him with something akin to shock or perhaps fear in her eyes.

_She's just excited about hearing Manhattan Transfer that's all. _Erik told himself, feeling foolish for ever hoping otherwise. _What can it hurt, it's just an outing as friends, I can be her friend if that's what she wants._

"If Ms. Drummond wants..." before Erik could finish, Christine threw herself into his arms and hugged him to her. She was soft and well-rounded in all the right places and she pressed all those places against his taut body as she held him.

"I would love to...." She gave one last tight squeeze and stepped back, glancing at the clock. "...my goodness, is it two in the afternoon already?!" She spun around and headed toward her room, "I have to start getting ready!"

Stunned, Erik frowned as he protested her eagerness, "The concert isn't until seven o'clock tonight."

Christine turned to him with a look that said he had no idea how much time it took to get ready for such things. "I know that, but I have to shower, do my hair, and get all dressed up for you."

She was gone before Erik could voice any kind of response. He had no idea why she would go to so much trouble - for him - what did it matter what he thought anyway, she wasn't his...never would be. Women like that didn't have anything to do with men like him; that was just the simple truth of it. He hadn't meant a woman yet who should have anything to do with him.

He felt Della's amusing gaze and narrowed his in question, "What?"

"You _are_ going to take her to dinner before the concert, aren't you."

She didn't voice it as a question, but rather as a suggestion. She was already going through the list of the most romantic restaurants in town.

Erik hadn't thought that much ahead really, having just found out he was going in the first place. He wasn't even sure he should take her to dinner, "Isn't that something two people do on a date?" Erik asked with a slight stutter, then emphasized, "This isn't a date."

Della wanted to laugh at the uncertainty she heard in his tone...._if only he knew, sweet, naive Erik._

"You can take her to the Tower of the Americas, that is such a classy and romantic place to go...it's too cold for the river walk."

All he could do was hang his head; it was easier than trying to make anyone around him see reason in the matter.

"Fine, please book a reservation at the Charter House for 5:00 and book a limo; we'll leave here a 4:30 and I will need it for the remainder of the evening." Erik dictated, watching as Della smiled and began doing as he had asked her to do. "Make sure Ms. Drummond knows we are going to dinner before the concert."

He walked past her and headed to his room; he could feel the mother of all headaches descending on him and the only thing that would help him now was a quick retreat. A sinking feeling of dread was burrowing deep in his belly; the fear of doing or saying something that would brand him an idiot. For one night he was going to have her on his arm; a seductress with a body to die for and eyes that seemed to reach out and embrace him.

He would be the envy of every man for one night...irony at it's most entertaining best.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Happy Memorial Day!! Remember those who serve to preserve our way of life; we owe them much.

CHAPTER 11 – Still day 4 - Monday - PREPARATIONS and NERVES

Christine hadn't felt this giddy since...well...never! It amazed her, the ability Erik had to ignite a flame of anxiety and desire in her that she had never experienced before. He was dreadfully serious natured and painfully self-deprecating; but there were times when Christine glimpsed within him the wild, untamed man she somehow sensed was lurking beneath the civilized facade he wore every day. She longed to set that man free; to experience the raw passion she knew was there...to be the one woman who finally unwrapped him.

She had splurged on a few items this afternoon when she and Della had been shopping. The bath items seemed an indulgent, silly luxury...until just now. She knew her skin would glow like moon dust and the soft, sensual smell of cashmere and water lily would cling to her like morning dew on the petals of a rose.

Erik would touch her tonight, he would have no choice but to wrap his strong fingers around her elbow and guide her as she had a sudden case of clumsiness. Knowing what a gentleman he was, he would place her shawl around her and allow his fingers to linger upon the curve of her neck and shoulders; ringing a thrill of hot desire through her. She could almost feel his hands on her now...just thinking about it. Her body danced with anticipation; what on earth was she going to do for the next few hours?

She concentrated on pouring just the right amount of fragrant, emollient oil into her bath water, made sure she had a new razor blade in her razor, placed her shampoo and conditioner within arms reach....and sank appreciatively into the very warm water.

_Thank you, Lord, for hot water and bath tubs. _Christine prayed, enjoying every minute of the relaxing bath. She closed her eyes, voiding her mind of all thoughts except her heavenly Father, and spent the next hour conversing with Him about everything she was feeling and experiencing. Somewhere after she had completed her prayer time, she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.

"Christine, it's Della. I just wanted to tell you that Erik has ordered the limo for tonight and you will be going to dinner at 4:30 with him...." and more softly she added, "...I told you it would happen."

She was wrapping the towel around herself and moving toward the door when she heard Della walking away. Pulling the door open just enough to catch her attention Christine said, "Della, thank you for everything." The older woman turned around, winked, and smiled, "You're welcome...you kids have fun."

Christine assured her that they would.

۞۞۞

This whole night was surely a huge mistake. Erik felt certain that Della, with her shining personality, had somehow coerced Christine into agreeing to this farce. Angry with the situation, he yanked the silk of his tie into the double Windsor knot that would give him the appearance of civility and class. This was humiliation at its best, that was all there was to it.

He absently donned a black Armani suit, ivory silk shirt, and a black tie; it didn't really matter what he wore in his opinion, it was just putting pretty wrapping on a piece of garbage. He had shaved earlier, choosing to wear the eye patch when he finished; if nothing else, it gave him a false sense of security. People seemed to stare through him with the eye patch, rather than at him when he went without it. His hair was always a bit ruffled, leaving him with the look of one who had just come in from riding the wind. He had considered getting it cut shorter, on many occasions; but in actual fact, it was another shield to him....covering flaws he was certain he had.

His shoes were spotlessly shined black leather, the same pair he always wore to ridiculous functions that pulled him from his solitude. He couldn't remember the last time he had dressed to escort a woman who was not out to use his name and image to get her name in the paper or her picture printed in some "social" page somewhere. He couldn't ignore the anxious twist that knotted his stomach at the prospect of having an evening with Christine – just the two of them. The woman had been a constant, thrumming need in him – practically from the first time he'd seen her.

He actually had topics of conversation he could discuss with her, ones that interested them both; music being at the top of the list. When was the last time he'd actually talked to a woman? He had avoided getting to know any of them, but this was different. Christine seemed determined to know him in some way...surely just as friends....but he was desperate to have whatever she willingly gave. He only hoped she didn't feel shame at being by his side tonight; he prayed he could keep his secret attraction to her in check and not do something that would totally repulse her.

Why had he allowed himself to be lassoed into this? Della and her conniving ways...he was going to have to talk to her about such things.

But a promise made was one thing Erik took very seriously. He would take Christine out tonight, treat her like the lady she was, show her that he wasn't completely barbaric – and then he would somehow purge her from his system. He had to. Needed to. He could not keep harboring foolish notions about her.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror in his quarters, assessing the picture before him. He supposed he looked the best he could for what he had to work with, which wasn't much. He grabbed his cane, wanting to be prepared should his thigh begin giving him fits. It was bad enough being crippled, but a limping man was a sign of weakness; at least the cane gave him an air of sophistication, or so Della informed him.

Taking a deep breath and wrestling with the nerves that threatened to devour him, Erik made his way out of his quarters and toward the stairs. This was going to be interesting, one way or the other.

۞۞۞

"Christine! You look divine!" Della exclaimed as she spun the smaller woman around in a circle. "That dress could NOT be more perfect!"

The designer dress from _Phoebe Couture, _reached to the mid-thigh. It was ivory with black accents, had a ruffled skirt with piping detail, ruffled bow at the waist, spaghetti straps, and a sweetheart neckline. It showcased her shapely legs, and full, round breasts. Her pregnancy, although still in the very early stages, had begun to produce a pooch and the dress hid it very well; something for which she was most thankful.

"Do you think so?" Christine smiled, wanting more affirmation that she would indeed turn Erik's head....many times.

Della winked and gave her a thumbs up; very "High School Musical", but effective nonetheless. Christine hadn't felt this giddy – EVER! She immersed herself in a luxurious, _Valentino_ silk and lace shawl she had purchased, feeling its softness caress her skin as intimately as a lover; slid her feet into the _Manolo Blahnik, _low-heeled halter shoes she had bought. Overall, she was very pleased with her appearance. The entire ensemble had cost just under $3000.00 and she knew it was worth every penny.

She had never been too interested in looking feminine and girly; in her line of work, it was usually a hindrance rather than an asset. Men needed to see her as an equal in the pharmaceutical industry, and they couldn't do that if all they were doing was looking at her boobs or fantasizing about other parts of her anatomy.

However, Erik was a completely different story. She wanted him to see her as a viable, worthy female for him; a woman capable of weathering all that life brought their way. She needed him to be unable to resist her. Unwilling to resist her.

"The limo arrived a few minutes ago, and Erik is already downstairs waiting on you....and he looks magnificent!" Della exclaimed. "Somehow, you and he have color coordinated outfits...it's really strange."

Christine felt her heart leap, anticipating Erik's presence. "He looks magnificent, you say? I think he looks that way no matter what...but I'd venture to say he will probably take my breath away."

Christine headed out the door while Della smiled secretly, she wished with all her heart that she could be a fly on the wall, able to watch them as the night progressed; it was going to be an evening that neither of them would forget....

...ever.

۞۞۞

Erik really didn't have anything to compare it to, so he determined that the sweat dousing his palms and the excessive pounding of his heart were only normal behavior under these circumstances. It never really crossed his mind to think that he was nervous or anxious in any way. He was in the middle of the foyer, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced leisurely back and forth in front of the door. Peyton and Paige weren't far away, watching him with small frowns upon their faces.

"Why are you so nervous, Uncle Erik?" Peyton asked.

Erik chanced a quick look at his nephew, realizing the young boy looked worried.

"I"m doing something I've never really done before, Peyton." Erik answered, hoping that would tether his curiosity.

"Like what?" Paige added, not accepting the reason given.

Erik stopped his pacing and knelt down in front of them, bringing himself down to their level. The cat, who had affectionately been named Patches, wound her way through his legs as he reached down and rubbed the top of her head.

"I guess I'm going on a date...although I am not sure I would call it that."

Paige clapped her hands and jumped up and down, scaring the cat into skittishly scooting away from them.

"Are you taking a girl?" Peyton asked, looking very much the serious young man.

Erik nodded, suppressing the need to smile.

"Is it just going to be the two of you?" Paige inquired.

Again, Erik nodded.

"Yep, I would say you're going on a date." Peyton announced, completely confident with his diagnosis.

Erik finally allowed himself to smile and give a light chuckle, "Thank you, young man, for clearing up the matter for me."

Peyton gave a proper bow, his blond head dipping deep and popping back up with a large grin on his face.

"Who's the girl?" Paige asked, her eyes as wide and luminous as the moon.

Of course, as fate would have it, Christine chose that moment to descend the stairs toward them. Erik actually had to take a double look at her, such was her beauty. He could not believe his eyes. The dress she wore was the most feminine thing he had ever seen on her, and she wore it well. The endless miles of her mocha-toned legs and the shapely curve of her shoulders made his mouth water as he realized he was holding his breath.

"Christine, you really do look like an angel!" Paige whispered.

"Thank you, little one, I appreciate it."

Erik was speechless; didn't trust himself to say a word. He was certain is didn't matter what he thought anyway, but....WOW! She was a knock out! He dropped his eyes before she could see the open admiration gushing from them; that was all he needed...humiliation because of exposure.

"Shall we?" He asked, offering his arm as an escort, his voice showing none of the raw possessiveness and passion that he felt lingering too close for comfort.

Christine smiled, slightly put off that Erik hadn't commented on her appearance; but she also had to remember that he had never been in this position before. Perhaps he needed a little coaching and prodding in certain areas.

Christine felt awed by the man she was about to spend the next few hours with. He looked fantastic; meticulously dressed and immaculately groomed, he smelled of rich spices and sultry summer nights. She had never been so attracted to anyone in her life. His suit fit him as though it was tailored just for him – as well it might have been – and he hadn't a clue how good he looked. The eye patch only added to the aura of dark, hidden passion and raw, sexual attraction that seemed to encompass him.

Erik watched her run her eyes from the tip of his head to the shoes on his feet. There was something in her slow assessment of him that sent his blood racing like molten lava through his veins. What was she thinking as she took him in? Did anything about his appearance please her?

"You look hot Erik....absolutely hot! Every woman is going to have her eyes on you tonight, and I can hold my head up high and let them know that you are with me..." she came to him and ran the palm of her hand down the lapel of his suit jacket, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath her soft touch, "...they can't touch."

He couldn't have been more shocked if she had hauled off and slapped him silly at that point. There was no doubt that she was talking about him...she had addressed him by name. She thought he was hot? He was fairly certain that term had never been used in reference to him before. What could he say? He didn't know how to accept the compliments she was giving him. He chose to turn them on her.

Before he had time to rethink his next move, Erik was bringing her hand to his lips and placing a kiss upon her upturned wrist. His tempestuous, teal gaze locked with her fiery topaz one and something passed between them that they both felt rock their worlds at the same time.

"You look gorgeous, Christine; exquisite." He murmured, "That you did this for me is humbling and far more than I deserve."

She smiled, sensual and warm, making him eager to touch her in ways he had never thought possible for one such as he. "You deserve this and more, Erik...." Christine whispered as he was still within inches of her, "....so much more."

There it was again, the flirting. At least he thought she was flirting with him. And wasn't it some form of flirting to dress for the benefit of another? She wanted him to notice her, and that made Erik's blood fire – hard and hot. He certainly was no expert on the rules and regulations of flirting, was there a manual somewhere that he could read up on.? _Flirting for Dummies_...that's what he needed!

Exhausted from listening to the voices in his head, Erik turned them down to a quiet roar and opened the door. The limo was typical for such vehicles; long, shiny, and black. Christine's stomach lurched with excitement as Erik's hand found the small of her back and guided her toward the car. She pulled the lacy shawl tighter around her, keeping the cool air from touching her skin completely, and cast Erik an inviting smile that said _touch me_.

The driver stood straight and demure at the door awaiting them; he opened the car door and Erik gracefully took her hand and guided her into the seat, then he went around and opened the opposite door to sit in the seat beside her.

She noted the distance between them and allowed it...for now.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A rather "close" encounter.

CHAPTER 12 - Still Monday - IT'S A DATE....part 1

Erik was nervous. Really nervous. His hands were as cold as ice. His heart was beating so fast he swore he could see each beat pounding hard fists of fury against the wall of his chest. He had to have taken complete leave of his senses to have gone along with this scheme. What had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking, that was the only explanation that made any sense at all. His body had been ruling him, the prospect of being near her - no matter what the circumstances - seemed to dominate any logical part of him.

When he could, he chanced small glances at Christine; admiring her profile in the hushed light of the late afternoon. She truly was the most alluring woman he had ever seen; Cascading falls of dark caramel hair embraced her shoulders, the dress she wore amplified a figure he had dreamed about in the last couple of nights, on more occasions than he cared to admit.

He wasn't sure he trusted himself to say anything, but he knew the silence was probably not as golden as the cliché made it out to be. But seriously...what was he supposed to say? He had never had to consider conversation before, having never had a reason to think about things to say...especially to a woman. His brain didn't seem to be fully functioning right now, not like other parts of him that seemed to be working overtime; so anything he said might just come out all wrong, leaving him looking even more the fool than he already felt.

Every once in a while, he caught her glancing at him with something unreadable banked in her eyes. Was she already regretting agreeing to this evening? Was she having second thoughts about going out with him...not _with_ him necessarily...but out in general....with him in tow? Without thinking about his actions, Erik dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head as he silently berated himself.

"Are you okay, Erik?"

His head bolted up and he focused his eyes on her concerned features. The sun was stationed behind her, crowning her head with an angelic halo; seemingly warning him against reaching for the heavens when hell was where he belonged.

"Yes, I'm fine...why?" He asked with interest, hoping he looked innocent...and then almost laughing at how ridiculous that sounded.

"I don't know...I saw you drop your head, shaking it with disgust...." she stated; her soft lips slipping quickly into a dazzling smile, "...I just wanted to make sure you weren't thinking about me with that attitude."

She _wanted_ him thinking about her? What manner of woman was this Christine Drummond? She almost seemed too good to be true? Was that it....had she lost some horrible wager somewhere and was playing him for the fool? Was she a part of some diabolical scheme to send him to the hell he was certain had been prepared for the likes of him?

"How could anyone think of you with anything but joy in their heart?" Erik answered, warding her off with what he hoped was a fabulous answer. "I was merely thinking, that is all."

Christine wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow, a look of comical doubt crossing her face. She scooted over toward him, not missing the stiffness that suddenly claimed his body. He immediately became a creature of the wild....poised to leap should anything threaten his sanctuary. His stunning eyes were bright and alert, filled with a plethora of emotions that Christine could not begin to understand. When she was able to pin his eyes with hers, there was such empty longing and loneliness swarming in their green pools, that she felt her heart ache.

Her only thoughts were to ease that pain, somehow. He was entirely too serious and she knew he would never believe, not yet anyway, that she was attracted to him - on many levels. She needed to lighten the air around them, make him less serious and find the hidden man that he only showed himself and his closest friends.

"So, how many woman have you taken in limo rides...should I be jealous?"

Okay, now he knew she was mocking him...she had to be. Erik knew she had noticed his scarred visage and even more heavily scarred soul; his obvious bum leg and the, so-can't-miss-it, blind eye that was painfully obvious. He didn't know whether to be angry or humiliated. He decided to just brush it off as a joke.

His snort said it all, "Jealous...that's funny." When she continued to softly drill him with her steady gaze, Erik looked away. "Just Della..." he finally answered stiffly, "....and you."

She smiled endearingly and nuzzled into him. Not even trying to repress the desire to do so, Erik allowed his arm to come up and grace her shoulders, drawing her closer to him in an intimate way that had his entire body dancing on hot coals. She seemed to want to be close to him, and he was tired of fighting the desire he felt to have her closer to him; all he had to lose was his heart.

He had no idea what people did at this point; it was unknown territory to him. He had never cared so much in his life about what someone thought about him; but he cared deeply what Christine thought. He wanted to earn the privilege she was giving him of allowing him to be with her...it was a gift...and one he did not intend to waste by being his typical, cynical self.

"So, are you hungry?" It sounded like a stupid question, even in his own mind, but the resulting moan it extracted from her sent a sensuous thrill down his spine.

"I'm starving....I haven't eaten since breakfast." Christine purred, "I skipped lunch and then found out I was going with you and had to get ready...so I'm literally starving!"

For all their simplicity and commonality, her words warmed him through and through; she had excitedly prepared for this evening, even taking the time to fix her beautiful hair in a manner that reminded him of the sweetest, richest caramel draping over the ivory of her shoulders. How he longed to massage his fingers through it's inviting thickness and loose himself in the intoxicating scent of it.

Sensing his reflective thoughts, Christine placed her hand on his leg, gently rubbing the muscled thigh beneath. Instead of flinching from her touch, she noticed his eyes slide to half mast; his dark, long lashes casting shadows over the smooth skin of his cheeks. She could have sworn she heard a soft growl coming from him, a moan of some kind that sent her pulse racing and her.

"Are you sorry you came..." he paused when she lifted her mocha eyes to his, "...with me?" The question was out before he could stop it; but Erik couldn't help the curiosity that plagued him.

To make the situation even more delicious, Christine lifted her lips to the corner of his mouth and kissed him, "There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather be with...than you."

Stunned by her words, Erik nonetheless doubted her sincerity; it wasn't that she gave him reason to doubt, it was just his nature. Dragging his eyes away from her lovely face, Erik looked around him with hooded eyes.

"Where are they....the hidden cameras? Has Tony or Thax set me up for some kind of practical joke or something?" He looked at the limo driver suspiciously, as though he was in on some prank of colossal proportions. The man looked back at him, a smirk on his weathered face; he was never bored on these trips...never.

Christine crossed her arms, lifting her breasts and drawing Erik's attention even more. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on hers. "Are you quite through?" Her brows were lifted and her topaz eyes looked stormy and tempestuous. Obviously there was no joke involved here. Erik almost felt like shrugging his large shoulders in protest. Honestly, what was he supposed to think? That she actually meant what she said?

Nonsense.

"Really Erik, you are quite frustrating at times. I am here because I chose to be here...I wanted to be here....do you understand that?"

If he hadn't been a grown man, Erik felt certain she would have lifted his chin in that annoying "motherly" fashion and shot berating arrows at him with her eyes. However, he was a grown man who had apparently said the wrong thing (which was what he feared in the first place) and just wanted to go back home and sulk in his studio (where he belonged). Besides, he knew how to defuse the issue, without a doubt.

"I understand that you chose to be here....but why, that's what confuses me?"

Okay, so maybe he didn't know how to defuse it.

It was her turn to shake her head, "For being one of the most brilliant men I have ever known, you can sure be dense."

He opened his mouth to respond, but they arrived at the restaurant at just the opportune time. Erik allowed the limo driver to open Christine's door, but his hand was the one that was there to ease her out of the car, his eyes riveted to the long, silky temptation of her legs. For a relatively short woman, she sure had the longest, shapliest legs Erik had ever seen...and he had been totured for years by the forbidden playground of a woman's body.

For years he had been accompanied on his arm by some lovely women whose beauty was obvious and open; they enjoyed being paraded around by a wealthy gentleman, one they knew was beneath them in all ways accept socially and would not dare to touch any of them.

None of them had attracted his interest half as much as Christine did.

Wrapping his long fingers around her petite hand was a strangely intimate act to him. He felt like her protector; her champion. She stood up, her dress rustling around her perfectly, and he looped her hand over the crux of his elbow, guiding her gently toward the entrance of the building.

"We are here at a great time, the sun hasn't set yet and we'll get to see it do so from the luxury dining suite of the Tower." Erik stated with awe in his voice, "It's breathtaking."

_You're breathtaking. _Christine thought, watching him speak of something that had captured him in a way nothing else had. His teal eyes were lit from within, holding an almost spiritual, celestial glow that could have belonged to a fallen angel - something of which his scarred beauty reminded her. Had he been born in a different time, he was a man that legends would have been written about or songs would have heralded - and she intended to claim him as her own.

The elevator doors had just opened when a camera was shoved in their faces and a picture snapped before either of them could react. The excitement was short lived as the culprit was wrestled to the ground by what appeared to be two waiters and a bar attendant. A portly man with kind eyes came rushing up to Erik with an apology.

"Oh! Mr. Miklos! I am so sorry! I had no idea he had a camera...I have no idea how he knew you were going to be here this evening! Again.....I am so sorry! Your meal will be my privilage tonight, as well as your ladies ! Please forgive me...." He bowed repeatedly, annoying Erik to no end, but gaining his forgiveness. These things could not always be contained.

"It's alright Samual, no damage done." Erik smiled graciously. He turned to the young paparazzi, "I had better not see that picture in tomorrow's gossip column or any such place...." his stern eyes drilled the boy, "....I have made it clear how much I hate my image...let alone having it plastered all over the public papers."

"But who's the lady with you....the public wants to know...they have a right to know?"

Erik almost smiled at the tenacity of the youth...the public, yeah right. "Her identity is to remain a mystery.....understood?"

"I will not sell the picture to the gossip magazine's, but how about the Entertainment Section of the newspaper....come on, it's respectable?"

Once again, Erik showed immense tolerance, "Her identity is to remain unknown....do I make myself clear?"

There was a clear, hard warning in his tone, and the boys color drained from his face. He understood perfectly...if he did not meet the demands, there would be consequences....somewhere...sometime.

"Very clear, Mr. Miklos."

The situation under control and everyone content for now, Erik walked past them with elegance and poise that displayed his cultured inner being.

"For a man that does everything possible to avoid people or public places, you handle yourself quite well when faced with scrutinizing and nosy people."

Erik glanced down at Christine with an incredulous look on his face and a gleam in his eyes, "I'm the local freak show, if I didn't humor them in some way I'd be drawn and quartered...." he noted the shock on her face and tried to tone down his sarcasm with a wicked grin, "...this is Texas after all, everyone carries a gun."

She was saved any sort of response as they were ushered toward the table without further delay and seated in the most coveted seat in the restaurant. Erik kept glancing aimlessly around the room, apparently feeling all eyes on him. Christine captured his large hand in hers and gave him a sensuous smile.

The music played softly in the background; and live pianist playing romantic music from the middle of the round room. Various couples were dancing slowly, swaying passionately to the soft, flowing music.

"Dance with me, Erik." Christine offered, wanting to feel the warmth and strength of him against her.

"I don't dance." He stated flatly. For a moment she thought she saw a fire roar to life in his eyes; something feral and untamed. But when she looked again, it was gone; he looked away from her, his expression blank. There was trepidation in his body language; a nervous energy that tore at her heart every time she sensed it.

"Surely a man as cultured and educated as you knows how to dance."

His snorted chuckle didn't answer her question, but it made him appear even more vulnerable. "I didn't say I don't know how to dance."

"Come on..." Christine stood up and put her hand out to him, "...I want to be in your arms."

Ignoring all the sets of eyes he felt on them, Erik took her hand and lead her to the dance floor; the whole time laughing at himself for even considering such a display of intimacy. Shocked that she didn't pull away from him at all; in fact, she had initiated the touching and the dancing, Erik tried not to dwell on the sudden swell of protective male dominance that slammed into him.

He wrapped his right arm around the soft sway of her waist and brought her hand to his chest with the other. She fit perfectly against him, her rippled-caramel hair brushed against the surface of his chin as she placed her head to his chest and pressed her body into his. The deep thud of his heart soothed her own nerves as she felt them move in harmony with the soft music. He smelled heavenly and she recognized the cologne as _Hollister California_, the same cologne her father had worn. It aroused emotions in her that had nothing to do with her father and everything to do with the man who held her so tenderly - as though she were a treasured piece of art that he feared would plummet to the ground if he held it too tightly.

"You smell so good, Erik...." She moved to look deep into this eyes, noting once again that if she didn't know he was blind in his right eye, it would not be obvious, "...and you dance beautifully."

She felt his strength and grace in every move they made together; he did indeed know how to dance, and every woman in the room looked at them as though they wanted to be right where she was. She showed her ownership by firmly nuzzling against his neck as they continued to dance, and she was awarded with his arm tightening around her and very sexual male reaction that sent shivers of delight through her body.

Erik had to concentrate on every step and move, fearing he would tumble to the ground if he didn't. She was actually breathing him in; nuzzling against his neck and gently massaging her lips against the sensitive flesh that was there. His body was on fire; from the erotic sensations caused by her lips to the sweet torture of his burgeoning erection that he was certain she could feel against her abdomen.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was actually pushing against the hardness of him, urging further contact and making him pant like a big cat. It was enough to make his head slightly dizzy and his stomach turn flips.

"You are a great dancer Erik, I knew you would be."

She whispered the words a breath's width from his ear, sending a tremor through him. He felt himself smiling at the knowledge that she found him a decent dancer; but even more thrilling was the idea that she didn't mind being with him - in close settings - in public.

He pulled his head back, looking down into her riveting eyes, "Why would you think that about me?"

"Because....just watching you move is like watching art; most tall men are great dancers...you're no exception."

Erik had never really considered himself tall; he knew he wasn't particularly short, but he had never really given it much thought. At 6'2", he had determined he was about average. Her words made him feel like someone worthy of kind words...and he wasn't used to that.

Once again, he scoffed at her, "I know you have noticed the limp, Christine...I doubt I resemble art in any way..." pausing, a self-mocking smirk played at his mouth, "...except for maybe a cartoon character."

She eyed him with a lifted brow, staring deeply into his eyes. Erik noticed the golden circle that surrounded the soft brown of her iris, making her eyes appear green in a certain light; he could stare into those eyes forever. Erik had never considered brown eyes attractive...not really; in fact, she was everything he had never been attracted to. However, if he was going to be completely honest with himself, she had him...he didn't feel that she wanted him....but she had him.

Somewhere within the last three days, Erik had given her his heart; cold, hard, useless though it was. It didn't seem to care that he was incapable of loving anyone....or that he was terrified of what might happen should she find out his true feelings. Looking back, he had fallen hard for her the moment she had taken him down to floor the first night...exercised her strength over him standing there in his T-shirt and little else. Being dominated by her didn't seem such a scary thing; in fact, it made his heart race and his body hard just thinking about it.

All this was floating through his mind as she regarded him with chastising eyes. "Stop talking about yourself that way, Erik...I don' care what others think - including you - but I think you're gorgeous....in many ways."

She had timed it perfectly, the music ended and she smiled sheepishly, walking away from him toward the table. His gaze dropped to the slow sway of her sensuous, full hips and his mouth went dry. She found him attractive? Is that was she was saying? It was too good to be true.

He followed her, only after he recovered his ability to think straight. The hardened length of him made walking a bit of a challenge, but he had purposefully worn a suit coat to cover such reactions. This was going to be an excruciatingly exhilarating night, dangling on the edge of desire as he was. He could die from the pulsing need pounding through him...

...however, he could think of no better way to go.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Love is in the air....

CHAPTER 13 – The date....continued....

Dinner had been a rather dream-like experience for Christine. Erik was mesmerizing and stimulating in his conversation, but she couldn't seem to stop looking at him. The more she looked the deeper she fell. She had accepted her inevitable love for him without argument, but she found herself uncertain of how to proceed. She certainly wasn't going to back down...the man needed to be chased and thoroughly caught, but she didn't want to scare him off with her "huntress" attitude; a lioness waited with great patience for her "prey" to advance and only when assured of her own ability to succeed did she pursue. Christine thought herself the lioness and Erik her "prey" - so to speak. She didn't know the meaning of the word failure as it pertained to her own desires; and she desired Erik; loved Erik.

For his part, Erik was doing all he could to NOT look at Christine. It wouldn't do for her to see what dark intents lurked in his eyes. She bothered him on many levels, most of which seemed to shut down the normal functions of his treasonous body and render him some sort of babbling idiot...it was simply humiliating. Having always roped his heart thoroughly in the past, Erik found that the binding had worked itself loose and his heart had roamed around freely only to be captured by a mere wisp of a woman. There were many words that burst into his mind to describe himself at this point...none of them flattering, and none of them appropriate - given Christine's affinity to anything resembling his berating himself.

Erik glanced at this watch and noticed it was definitely time to go. He raised his hand for the check bringing the waiter in an instant, quickly taking Erik's credit card and exiting as quietly as he had appeared.

Erik stood and offered his hand, helping Christine to her feet, "The concert hall is not but a few blocks from here, it won't take us long to get there."

"I am looking forward to this...I love _Manhattan Transfer_." Christine responded, meeting his searching gaze without hesitation. Her eyes were lit up and she seemed genuinely happy to be with him. If he didn't know better, Erik would think he was being offered a taste of heaven.

۞۞۞

Once inside the theater, Christine was in awe of her surroundings. The place was magnificent in its decor; resembling an ornate building from the 19th century. She felt small against the vastness surrounding her...a mere blip on the scale. Sensing her sudden melancholy, Erik took her hand in his and led them away from the crowds that were gathering. He escorted her to a private entrance on the side of the building, presented a key to unlock the door and once inside, guided her to a small elevator.

She had no idea where he was taking her, but the tour was amazing. Everywhere she turned the elaborate fixtures, colors, and artwork seemed to grow in beauty; even the small elevator didn't lack a quaint charm.

The size of the elevator seemed to dwarf her even more with Erik beside her. His broad shoulders created a protective barrier against the door, giving Christine a defined view of their toned structure beneath the expensive material of his suit jacket. She enjoyed the short lift, spending the moments mentally peeling Erik's clothes off to reveal the Herculean body beneath.

As the door opened, no words were said as he once again took her hand and gently pulled her behind him. There were a few people about, lifting their eyes and nodding in Erik's direction. He acknowledged them with a simple tick of his head, but continued without speaking, finally emerging upon an elegant looking door with "Mr. Erik Miklos" written upon it. and the number "5". He took another key and opened it, revealing a box seat perched just to the right of the stage...the best seats in the house.

If she had thought the outside of the building was magnificent, the sight of the theater itself was truly breathtaking. Erik seated her as her eyes continued to take in the opulence of each square foot of the auditorium.

"Erik...it's so beautiful!"

He agreed with her, but the fact that she saw in it what he saw, warmed his heart. He sat down beside her and entertained her with a brief history of the theater until the lights dimmed and the concert began.

۞۞۞

It was probably at very good concert, but had he been asked, Erik would have been unable to name one song that had been performed during the two hour event, Christine had so captured his attention and held it throughout the night. The joy that radiated off her seemed contagious and Erik found himself feeling light-hearted and smiling frequently.

"That was magnificent!" She exclaimed as they emerged into the evening air. She pulled her shawl further around her shoulders, feeling the nippy January breeze whispering against her skin. Without considering the romance in what he did, Erik took his suit coat off and draped it over her.

Her hand landed on his as he started to pull away, capturing his long, callused fingers in her soft grip. She turned into him, bringing him close to her - face to face. The bright stars glowed in his eyes and the moon haloed his dark head...it was magical.

"Tonight has been the best date I have ever had...thank you." Christine murmured.

He had no idea how to respond. He had no history to draw on. In fact, truth be told, he had never really been on a date before. She was still leaning into him, her beguiling eyes looking up into his with a tense softness that Erik had never seen before. Her full, inviting lips were slightly parted, and Erik found that he was leaning toward those lips without any hope of stopping himself. The limo chose that very moment to pull up, and the driver was beside them in an instant, opening the door to admit them into the car. Christine got in first and slid over just enough to let Erik sit.

Thinking he would end up in her lap, Erik was careful to not actually sit on her. The whole night had been full of moments like this. Moments when he was certain she was playing some sort of "flirting with danger" game or some hidden camera was going to be revealed and some TV host would announce they were on a prank show of some sort.

She sat beside him, her hand gently resting on his; her soft, lean fingers skirting over his knuckles, leaving a heated trail behind them. She appeared to be deep in thought, the wispy curls of her hair pulled away from her lovely features, casting a halo on her face in the enchanting glow of the moonlight.

"Beautiful..."

The word was little more than a whisper, but it filled the dark confines of the limo as fully as if it had been screamed from a tall mountaintop. Erik hadn't meant to say it aloud, but he couldn't take it back now. Although he couldn't see her eyes, he knew they were centered on him...assessing his sanity most likely.

Despite his embarrassment at having voiced his thoughts aloud, Erik felt no shame. She was beautiful...in every possible way. What man wouldn't see that? What man wouldn't tell her? Erik had to remind himself that he had never said such a thing to any woman, although he had often wanted to tell Della that he thought she was beautiful.

_That would have been awkward. _He thought. They had never been anything but friends, but he supposed it wasn't against some written or understood law to consider a friend beautiful.

His eyes were skating over her face as he spoke the single word; marking her as permanently as if he had branded her with a hot iron. Christine was aware of him on many levels but, in that moment, she experienced a voltage of energy that sent her reeling past being aware of him, and careening toward launching herself at him.

Sensing she had heard him, but was shocked to some degree, Erik tenderly ran the shaking surface of his finger down the downy softness of her cheek. His heart, the cold, dead muscle that he had sworn could not be revived, beat frantically against his chest as he memorized every sensual curve of her face and....

...then they arrived at home. Erik's frustration was mounting with each passing moment. He hadn't indicated to the driver to take them anywhere else, so he had headed back to Erik's home. His hand dropped from her face with reluctant slowness, causing a fleeting look of disappointment to bank in her eyes.

After she was elegantly helped from the car, Erik walked her to the door with his hand resting possessively at the small of her back; she doubted he even knew he was doing it.

"I really had a wonderful time tonight, Erik..." her eyes dropped to the fullness of his mouth, relishing the idea of a goodnight kiss. "....I hope you did too."

_Oh yeah. Absolutely. No doubt. I'd have to be dead to not enjoy being around you._

He couldn't say any of it, the words froze in his throat. Instead, he opened the door and guided her through it. Now what? Was he supposed to make small talk to assure her that it was a wonderful date? Was he supposed to – heaven forbid – initiate a kiss?

That sent him into a silent panic. He had no experience in that area...she would surely laugh at him. After all, he was a man in his mid-thirties, established financially, well-traveled; she surely thought he'd run upon some desperate women in his time...desperate enough to briefly be interested in him.

But that would just not be the truth.

There had been no one.

Ever.

Man! He truly was pathetic.

"Would you care to join me in the library for a night cap?"

His voice was low and drugging, but Christine sensed a twinge of apprehension in the seductive tone. What on earth could have him doubting himself again...he was really aggravatingly hard on himself. Was he worried that she would turn him down...or worried that she would accept?

It was exhausting just thinking about it.

"Of course I would....let me slip into something a little more...." she gave him a coquettish smile, "...comfortable."

He watched her move away from him and up the stairs. Swallowing deeply and then letting loose a long sigh, Erik made his way to the library wondering what in the blazes he was getting himself into. What misery had he flawlessly brought down upon himself this time?

۞۞۞

Erik had never been much of a pacer before; he thought it was a sign of uncertainty or confusion, two negatives he was hoping to avoid in his otherwise splotchy character make-up. But tonight, he couldn't seem to stop himself. Not only was he pacing the floor of the library, he was mumbling incoherently to whatever element or being would listen.

"How can you feel this strongly about a woman you've only known for days?"

The question hung in the air, awaiting his answer. Actually, Erik recalled the immediate and intense attraction he had felt for her the first night he had met her. Ever since that night she had eclipsed every other thought he attempted, filled his dreams – night and day.

"She's going to barricade herself in her room and hope you crawl back under the rock from whence you came." Erik told himself. "Join me for a night cap?" His mocking snicker seemed apropos for the self-chastising he was doing in his mind. "What was I thinking?"

Just as he was convinced she had left him hanging, there was a quiet knock on the door. His head jerked at the sound, revealing his shock at actually hearing it. Had she actually, seriously taken him up on his offer?

She didn't wait for him to answer, but opened the door to make her way into the large, warm library. The room had an 18th century, old-world inviting presence to it. The large fireplace that totally dominated the inside wall made her think of a long, intense make-out session on the plush, leather couch that rested in front of it.

The idea brought a sultry smile to her mouth and a slight sway to her hips. She had chosen to wear a lacy, pure white sleep gown; feminine and elegant, it made her feel more like a woman than most everything else she had ever owned in the whole of her adult life. From the catch in Erik's breath, she was thankful she had chosen it.

He tried to remain aloof; ignoring his reaction to her. If he could have done so, without appearing the coward he was afraid he had become, Erik would have fled; instead, all he could do was watch her saunter toward him, using every weapon she had in her arsenal. He watched her with leery interest, his breath coming out in short bouts that hardly kept his brain functioning; not that his brain was the one thing he was most concerned about. How did she capture him so easily, so completely? He was utterly shameless around her...forgetting every hard earned, laboring promise he had made to himself to not entertain pursuing a woman...ever.

Of course, anything he'd ever said to himself or any promise he'd ever made abandoned him when she took his hand and led him to the couch; willingly, openly seeking his touch.

She gently lowered him into the soft cushions. "What are we going to do about this?" She asked, gracefully sinking into the seat beside him.

"Excuse me?" He asked with a vulnerable crack in his voice.

She pulled her hair back from her neck, drawing his eyes to the dewy softness. Did he just gulp? Loudly? With her sitting so close to him? He felt like a school boy with his first crush...it was humiliating.

Seeing the weariness settle in his eyes, Christine lifted her hand to his scarred cheek, relishing in the combination of textures...the roughness of his slight beard, the smoothness of the scars, the softness of the skin beneath it all; he was such a complex mix of everything she could ever want in a man. She gently lifted the eye patch, revealing the beauty of the wounded eye beneath...his eyes were awesome...there was no other way to describe them.

"What are we going to do about this....attraction we have for each other?"

Had his jaw literally hit the floor? He was certain that it had. Was she seriously suggesting there was something between them? Had she purposefully removed the patch and revealed the ugliness of his scars and not cringed? To his untrained but completely biased ear, it seemed so; but he'd been wrong on many occasions about things that were far less important to him.

She was watching the play of emotions on his face, knowing he was sorting through the myriad of questions that suddenly flooded his mind. What was the point in avoiding it? They both felt it; she was willing to lay her cards on the table and take the bull by the horns; was he willing to do put aside his reservations and see what could happen between them?

"Hold me, Erik...." she purred, easing into his warm body and lifting her eyes to look deeply into his, "...I won't break, I won't run, I won't do anything except melt in your embrace."

Totally yielding to the raging desire he had to do exactly as she said, Erik pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She did exactly as she said she would and melded against him, perfectly.

"This can't be real...I'm dreaming all of this...." he whispered; his warm breath skirting over her hair, sending delightful beads of desire through her, "....you....the date....everything."

Her lips shimmered over the hallow in his neck; the pulse beneath them racing. "This is very real..." her mouth playfully nipped up the line of his jaw, studiously bound for his lips. She paused before taking him, "...I'm going to kiss you Erik...we both want it."

Softly, she claimed his mouth; poised for his resistance. At first, shocked beyond all comprehension, Erik couldn't even respond. His lips remained non-pliant, practically unresponsive. But as her ravenous lips moved over his, Erik could not help but lose himself in the feel and taste of her. She pulled his bottom lip between hers, suckling it with eager slowness; his soft moan enticing her to touch her tongue to the mere tip of his lip....you'd have thought she'd lit a match and thrown it on gasoline.

The man came alive in her arms. His hands found homes in her hair and at her ribcage, collectively pinning her against his hard body. His mouth became ferocious in its claiming, taking on a mind of its own. His warm, eager tongue fed off hers, lapping against it with intense plunges that delved into her soul; leaving her raw and open for him. His kiss was nothing like a beginners should have been....it was a searing, gut-wrenching, toe-curling kiss that left her breathless when he lifted his lips from hers and stared down into her eyes.

She was stunned by the raw potency of the kiss; having expected something far less pulse-pounding. Her silence unnerved him, and attributing it to disgust or revulsion, he suddenly pushed her away with harsh reality banked in his eyes.

Not understanding the sudden change in him, Christine's brow lifted in concerned interest. Coiled energy seemed to cocoon him, sparking embers in his brilliant eyes. He was glorious – his features a veritable buffet of caged, wild fury and unresolved, rampant passion. She shouldn't have been so taken with him while the glint in his eyes was so murderous, but she couldn't help herself.

"What game are you playing?" He asked accusingly, spewing the words while backing away from her.

His eyes narrowed in what Christine could only assume was supposed to be skepticism; several disobedient strands of dark hair hindering him from looking totally dangerous. All she wanted to do was drown in his kisses once again - or die in his arms – whichever one was meant to be. His lips were swollen from their passionate tango with hers, and she relished the possessive swell of pride at having been the first – and ONLY – woman to taste of his ambrosia laced kisses.

Feeling empowered by the love she felt, Christine stood up and faced him. "I don't play games Erik...not in affairs of the heart." Her voice lowered and shadows blanketed her features, "I've been played enough over the past five years to last a lifetime."

He wasn't such an insensitive twit that he couldn't notice the pain housed in her eyes. In fact, it abraded his soul like sand paper. He didn't ask the question that he wanted to ask, but found himself drawing her into his protective embrace.

"I...." He stammered through his thoughts, hating the vulnerability he was feeling, "...what happened?" His hands gently moved through her hair in a soothing manner, warding off any residual effects of what he had seen in her eyes.

The tenderness he showed her caused hot tears to surface and she buried her face in his shoulder. His rich, masculine scent granted her a peace she had never felt before; enveloping her in a world where only the two of them existed...if only for this moment....tonight.

"You don't want to hear about it..." Christine softly scoffed, "...it's not your problem."

He deserved that; and whatever else she wanted to dish out. Sometimes he had a tendency to forget there were other people in the world with problems and pain; many of them weren't scarred physically like him, but they were scarred nonetheless.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." He replied with sincerity.

She moved away from him to sit on the couch; folding her legs beneath her and looking young and wounded as she tried to explain. "What can I say, I was a fool for love...." she shrugged, "...at least I thought it was love."

"Your husband." Erik realized, feeling embarrassed for having not thought about that to begin with. Jealously slammed into him; images of her being intimate with this unknown man who had so obviously hurt her. Emotions such as jealousy were unfamiliar to Erik; extrinsic and foreign. He gritted his teeth against the need to claim her....to brand her his in some way.

"In the three days I've know you, you've been more of a man to me than Raoul ever was....more protective and strong to me, wanting to fight the world for my happiness if need be..." She smiled as he reached over and took her hand in his, "...Raoul was a user, not a giver. He practically destroyed something that my father had labored all of his life to build with his work ethics and crooked business tactics."

She quieted for a moment, but didn't hesitate to go on, "I married him after my parents insisted that we were perfect for each other. We'd dated for a couple of years, Raoul had studied under my father – as had I – and we both felt we were ready for the commitment."

"Things changed...." Erik added, knowing where her thoughts were leading, "...after he married you."

She nodded, not finding the words to express the full betrayal she felt. "The first two years were okay, he was busy building his career and making himself indispensable to my father." She narrowed her eyes, staring into the crackling flames of the fireplace. "The sex was okay....but I had expected far more in a marriage, especially when I had come to him untouched."

This was a line of conversation Erik wasn't going to pursue; already he was having enough problems dealing with the fact that she had married a swine and that he had done something to make her hurt. What had he done?

Noticing the weariness in her eyes and the slight slump in her shoulders, Erik realized Christine was feeling the effects of their conversation and, no doubt, the excitement of the day. There was so many unanswered questions lingering in the air, but there were only two he had to ask before ending the evening and allowing her to rest.

Erik sat very close to her, but didn't touch her, fearing that the undeniable desire he felt to take her in his arms would rob him of his good sense. "Okay, so you're not playing a game with me..." there was no bitterness left in his tone, "...but how can you be attracted to me?"

She smiled then; a simple, sensual lift of her mouth that did just as much to entice him as the mere touch of her hand. "There is no one reason why I'm attracted to you....there are many." She leaned in to him and swept her lips against his once more, bringing a moan of delight from her. "Your undeniable masculine beauty, the scars that show that you have struggled and conquered, your courage, your gentleness, the way you love – tirelessly and unselfishly..." She smiled and shook her head at the obvious look of disbelief on his face, "....your brilliance, your voice, and this list goes on and on."

Her words were staggering, enough to shake the very foundations of his world. No one had ever said such things to him...no one. She kissed him once more on the cheek before standing and moving toward the door. Erik remained on the couch, still captured by her confession.

Before she left, he had one more thing he had to know. His choked voice speared the silence, giving her pause to stop.

"What did he do....this Raoul..." she turned to look at him as he finished, "....to hurt you so?"

Her first response was a sad smile and a haunted look of loss, but it was her words that pulled at his heart, "He cheated on me many times, the last time with my secretary. He used me in so many ways that disgusted me...but mostly, he tried to rob me of things I swore I would never give to anyone...."

Her eyes lifted, catching the flames of the fireplace; glittering with determination and strength.

"...my self-respect and dignity."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

I was out of town for a few days, plus I've taken on a second job for now, so I'm not writing at a very fast speed right now. But don't worry, this story will get updated at least once every eight days....I can't leave my characters (nor my readers) hanging any longer than that.

CHAPTER 14 – After midnight and the morning after....(Tuesday)

It was shortly after midnight when Christine went to bed, leaving Erik in the library by himself; it was still early as far as his internal clock was concerned. Staring up at the rows of books he had collected over the years, Erik couldn't seem to muster the desire to read any of them...not tonight. He was still reeling from the answer she had given him.

Raoul, affectionately dubbed "the Scum Bag"; how could any man want another woman after having Christine? She was smart, witty, affectionate, beautiful, strong, AND she had the kind of curves a man wants to take his time exploring...like the most scenic route on a mountain road...slow and easy. Erik felt fury welling within him, fury over the way someone else had been treated; this was something new to him.

He wanted to keep her from harm and pain so badly it was hurting him; he wanted to make sure she knew she was loved; and not only loved, but desired. Every instinctive notion he possessed told him to hunt this scum bag down and beat him so bad he'd never have the opportunity or the will to hurt another woman.

Strangely though, no matter how much he wanted to put his fist into the other man's face, there was something even more powerful pumping through his veins. This night, music was calling to him; calling to him like a distant thunder rolling in the skies, building strength and velocity as it nears the very spot where you stand, filling you with an anxious twitter that you can't ignore.

It had been so long since he'd felt this burning need to express his inner turmoil through music; not that he was really in turmoil at the moment. Christine had magically managed to beat his demons into submission, sending them slithering away licking their wounds. He couldn't explain it. Didn't want to explain it. He just wanted more of what she was giving him.

He cautiously made his way to the piano that sat quietly in the corner of the library. It hadn't been played in so long, he was certain the strings would be in dire need of tuning. But he didn't care, at the moment there was going to be nothing that would come between him and the need to create. Already, even before he sat down, the words and music formed in his mind; eager to use him as an outlet to the world.

It made no sense to him, but Erik was picturing Christine beside him in his bed – his ring sparkling on her finger as the sun bathed her face in sweet warmth, bidding the world to awaken at first dawn. She faced him, her beautiful features at peace in her sleep. His heart was wrenching from the sheer purity of the moment, the love that was swelling within him for the woman who had changed his world.

Coaxing the melody that ripped through him, Erik sat down at the piano and let it flow...

_***I guess I'm just a little bit scared..._

_I guess I'm not as strong as I thought._

_When I see you lying there,_

_I worry about losing you."_

Christine heard the music drift through the halls and beckon her to answer the raw emotion she was hearing in his voice. She knew it was Erik, and she knew instinctively that the song was about her. Not wanting him to know she heard him, Christine only eased half way down the stairs as she listened.

"_I used to think of only me,_

_but that seems so long ago._

_Now I find it hard to conceive_

_life without you._

_Baby, I don't want to be the one _

_to face this life all alone._

_At the end of the day,_

_when the sun goes down,_

_I want you right here in my arms...forever._

_Every little smile, every move you make..._

_It's like a dagger to my heart, takes my breath away._

_All I ask is that you be mine forever..._

_...forever."_

The words gripped her heart, holding her captive in their sincerity. She knew she was hearing sentiments that he wasn't ready to confess to her face, not yet; he was barely able to comprehend her attraction to him. The lyrics spoke of love. Love that terrified him. Love that would save him.

There was a pause in the music, as though he was gathering his thoughts. In the library, Erik felt the strength of his love swelling in his heart, shooting tears to his eyes. Did she honestly feel for him? Was the love he felt in vain...for naught but his own demise? He closed his eyes, pleading his case as the images faded, replaced by the very real possibility that her feelings for him were only temporary and would fade with mornings light.

"_So think about what you're doing here._

_If you're anything less than sincere..._

_tell me now and let yourself out the door._

_No harm no foul, kill me know, save me all the pain._

_But if you feel the way I do...stay..._

_and let me make love to you._

_Baby, I don't want to be the one_

_to face this life all alone._

_At the end of the day._

_when the sun goes down,_

_I want you right here in my arms...forever._

_Every little smile, every move you make...._

_It's like a dagger to my heart, takes my breath away._

_All I ask is that you be mine forever..._

_...forever..._

_...forever..._

_...forever."_

His voice quieted, but Christine could clearly hear the pleading in his voice as he sang the last phrases.

"_I guess I'm just a little bit scared..._

_I guess I'm not as strong as I thought._

_When I see you lying there,_

_I worry about losing you."***_

_*****Forever, sung by John Michael Montgomery**_

Feeling somehow exhilarated, filled with a life that he had thought dead long ago, Erik took the next couple of hours to put what he had just experienced on paper. It was the first song he'd written in years...at least a song worth putting to paper.

Toward 3 am, he finally headed toward his bed eager to find rest – true rest – for the first time in a very long time. His body felt strangely revived though, a fact that he found rather odd since he had begun to feel every bit his 34 years over recent months.

As he readied for bed, his thoughts went unbidden to the woman whose very touch had come to mean so much to him. He had thought to never belong to anyone, never answer to anyone. They were the sweetest of bindings – the silk cords with which she had lassoed his heart. Sweet bondage, that's what it was, if he could remain a slave to Christine for the remainder of his life, he would die a happy man. How pathetic he sounded, even to himself; but he was sick and tired of ignoring the fundamental need he had to be near her. It just felt....right.

He hadn't imagined any of it, and yet it had been nothing more than a kiss, at least at its most basic core; an act often taken for granted among those who had the opportunity to engage in it often. But Erik knew it was anything but simple...or basic; tonight he had felt true desire for the first time in his life. Tonight he had kissed a woman; not just any woman, but Christine. Tonight, he had wanted more than sex; he was a man after all, of course he wanted sex, but for the first time in his life he wanted more than physical gratification. For once, he knew that he would not be able to appease the throbbing desire coursing through him by his usual means.

He wanted to hold her; in his arms, in his heart...forever. He wanted to know all there was to know about her: her likes and dislikes, her goals and aspirations, what she thought about children – and lots of them. Did she truly not care that he was scarred, blind, and crippled? Because she looked at him in such a way – a way that made him feel like the only man alive.

As he turned in the bed, lying face down in the pillow, he prayed for the guidance he had mocked so many times in his life. He had no clue how to proceed with this...situation. He respected Christine and her faith. He knew she wanted him to renew his relationship with God, to put to good use the faith his mother had shared with him – even at the young age of four; memories that were cherished and still so painful. He remembered seeing his dad on his knees, praying to God, despite the physical ramifications should he be caught by the government.

Erik's voice was barely a reverent whisper as he talked to Jesus...

"**LORD,**

**I'm not too good at this...not too familiar with the right way to do it; but I know that I don't deserve even a blink of Your eye in my direction. I need You...I can't continue on this path without You..."**

Something wrenched his heart; a hand...it felt like. There was no pain, no fear...just the need to listen with his soul.

_**I'M HERE, I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN...WAITING.**_

The words were as audible as they could be; as if God stood right in front of him.

The only words he could bring forth were simple, basic, and all that was needed, "**Help me."**

A peace that he could not comprehend settled over him; sending him into the most invigorating, untainted sleep he had ever had.

۞۞۞

The morning came, not a surprise by any means, but Erik faced it with a strange humming in his heart. It wasn't that he was a morning person – or not – it was more that he had never had a reason to consider it before. He found himself wanting to whistle...what was up with that? He had a stupid grin on his face for crying out loud, and there was little he could do to wipe it off. It was downright frightening!

He sat at the dining room table, reading the morning paper as was his usual routine, but he wasn't fully engrossed in it. He was oddly aware of everything going on around him. The stunning beauty of the morning sun glistening through the windows and bringing brilliance to the room; the joy he felt at knowing Paige and Peyton were still out of school and would be coming down to breakfast soon...eager to be with him even though he had never been much of a father figure to them.

Well, that would soon change. He was tired of staying in the background and merely observing their lives and not touching them. He was upset at himself for not realizing how blessed he really was, despite the pain and suffering he had endured. God had set that record straight.

_**EVERYONE HAS PAIN AND SUFFERING, I ALONE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF HANDLING AND WHAT YOU NEED TO HANDLE TO BE ALL THAT I KNOW YOU CAN BE. YOU'RE AN INDIVIDUAL ERIK...AND I TALK TO YOU AND DEAL WITH YOU ON AN INDIVIDUAL BASIS. **_

In other words, not everyone will experience God the same way Erik did, others will have a different story when asked how their eyes were finally opened. That was awesome to Erik...God knew him! God – the very Creator of the universe – KNEW. HIM. Amazing!

Della was the first one to meet him at the breakfast table. She seemed dearer to him, a woman who had coached him through some of the most maddening times in his life. She had never faltered, never forsaken him, even though he had given her so many reasons to leave.

She sat down across from him, and Erik could feel her pleading eyes. She was eager to know about their date. Erik slowly lowered the newspaper, lifting his eyes to meet hers, and it was one of those moments where time stood still.

Della took one long look at him, smiled broadly and laughed. "It happened, didn't it?" Could her grin have been any bigger or the I-Told-You-So look on her face been any more conspicuous? Erik didn't think so. "You have finally accepted that she's attracted to you....that someone finds you sexy, handsome, and worthy of their affection."

He folded the paper slowly and meticulously, placed it on the table beside his plate and sat back. He crossed his legs and managed to look delightfully roguish; rumpled hair, bedroom eyes, and a playfully naughty smirk on his face.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say I've accepted it."

She smirked back, lifting her brows teasingly, "Maybe not, but you're getting there."

He chuckled at the obvious pleasure she took in teasing him about his love life, which was of extreme interest to her for some reason.

"You're a hopeless romantic Della, has anyone ever told you that?"

She winked at him and sat down on the opposite side of the table; particularly pleased with herself. "Of course, but only you."

She occupied herself by dolloping a spoonful of the delicious smelling breakfast quiche that Francois had baked, but her smile never left her face. Erik suddenly had a new appreciation for the friendship she had given him all these wretched years; never once turning her back on him even when he deserved it. She was more of a sister to him than even blood could have produced.

He had been loved and cared for, although he had often scoffed at it. And now, he had a woman in his life who seemed to be, miracles of miracles, interested in him. Of course, now that the time grew closer and closer for Christine to come downstairs, Erik began to doubt the wisdom in being here waiting for her. What was he going to say to her? Talk about awkward. He knew her taste now, the sweetness of her tongue and feel of her body pressed provocatively against his; his pulse sped up and his throat constricted at the mere thought of seeing her again....but words became jumbled puzzles in his mind.

She spared him any further analysis by quietly entering the room and sitting down right next to him. It was all he could do to not stare at her. He certainly didn't need the children learning the true nature of his thoughts, and he knew from experience that Della was able to "read" him very well. Displaying a perfect poker face, he retrieved the neatly folded paper, turned to the first page, and lifted it; effectively hiding behind it.

Silence commenced. Erik could feel eyes on him, but refused to appease their curiosity any more than her sitting down beside him already had. After all, a gentleman didn't kiss and tell. Feeling the warmth of her beside him, however, seemed to be the most perfect thing in all the world...right now...right here.

He was doing good at maintaining a safe mental distance when a very feminine hand folded the paper down and Christine's smiling face greeted him. She leaned over and placed a kiss upon his lips; it didn't last more than a millisecond, but that didn't make it any less branding. Her warm eyes captured his, scorching him all the way to his soul; he could get lost in those eyes, never wanting to be found again. His complete surrender to her terrified him. Giving someone even a modicum of control over him was a frightening thing; but this woman commanded everything about him, whether she knew it or not.

"Good morning, Erik." She had finished the slight kiss and pulled back to smile at him, wondering what the furrowed brow and hooded eyes meant.

He was spared any response by the ringing of his cell phone. With too much enthusiasm involved, he answered it.

"Erik here."

"_Hey buddy ol' pal....I'm in Houston, my flight leaves in ten minutes. Cool isn't it, I decided to fly commercial..." _Erik could hear Tony chuckle on the other end, "..._you know how I hate to draw attention to myself." _Erik could practically hear hell freezing over with that statement.

"Yeah Tony, I know. You're such an introvert. I take it this means you'll be here in about an hour."

"_You are a genius, Erik...nothing gets past you."_ Tony teased, still chuckling. _"You are coming to pick us up, aren't you?"_

"Us?" Erik responded with disbelief, wondering what poor soul Tony had dragged with him.

"_Of course 'Us', you didn't think I'd leave Pepper behind did you? I'm not letting that woman out of my sight ever again."_

Erik couldn't help but laugh aloud at that one, "What does Pepper have to say about that?"

Silence – just for effect – followed, _"I don't believe I gave her much of a choice in the matter."_

Erik scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that's what I thought...I can't believe the women love you like they do...it can't be your archaic macho attitude."

Tony gasped in mock horror, _"Now see here, you have impugned my honor for the last time, you knave....I issue a challenge of swords."_

Erik chuckled once again, "Bring it on, old man."

"_You do still have your membership at the fencing club?" _Tony questioned, humor behind each word.

"Of course..." Erik stated, eager to duel with his friend once again; it had been a very long time, "...but I haven't dueled in ages...I'm out of practice."

An evil laugh carried over the line as Erik heard the boarding call for the flight, _"All the better for me to dispense with you forthwith."_ Erik could see Tony standing in the airport with his hand in the air, holding an imaginary sword. "See ya soon....don't forget to pick us up."

The phone went dead and Erik smiled; Tony and Pepper were coming to his house and he had Christine, for now anyway. For once, he was standing on level ground with his friend. Erik's self-confidence had never been healthy, but jealousy had never been a part of him. It had never had a reason to show its ugly, green self.; but even with Pepper coming, and the rumors about the two of them, Erik felt threatened by Tony's worldly charm and the vast number of women he had seduced and forgotten. Would Christine fall easily for his rugged handsomeness and suave manners?

Hating himself for the turn his thoughts had taken, Erik remembered his new resolve to be a better man and not allow his own dark tendencies to rule him anymore. He deserved better than what he had allowed himself thus far; his life was a stage and he had exited in the middle of a song....it was time to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart and move on.

He just prayed that Christine would help him learn how to live again.

۞۞۞

"Would you like to make a trip to the airport with me?" Erik asked, hoping she had no other plans.

Christine swallowed the last bit of her orange juice, her eyes going wide at the thought of spending more time with him. She was still on an emotional high from his kiss last night; she had never experienced such fire shooting through her as she did when he touched her. If she could find a way to market the sensations he produced in her body, she would win the Nobel Peace Prize, or become the first woman president by popularity vote.

It could happen.

"I'd love to, just give me five minutes to look presentable." She stated, getting up from the table and starting toward the stairs. She didn't feel very well, nausea and cramping seemed to have gripped her for the time being, but she would not let it stop her. Pregnant for not, she was going to spend time with him.

Erik followed, his eyes burning a trail of approval over every inch of her. "In my opinion, you look really hot right now." He whispered as she turned to look at him.

"Erik, my hair isn't even combed, I'm wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt, and my teeth need brushing." She chuckled when he shrugged her words off, apparently not getting why she seemed to think those things mattered.

He took her in his arms, feeling emboldened by her light flirtations, "The T- shirt is mine – and I must say that it does strange things to me to see you in my clothes...." he brushed kisses over her temple and touched the sensitive lobe of her ear, "...wicked, wonderful things."

Dear heavens he had a way of turning her knees to goo. She giggled as he continued to nuzzle her ear, the movements tickling her. He pulled away with a smile across his features. As he adored her with his eyes, Christine noticed something different...he seemed freer than he had ever been; somehow reborn. The haunting shadows in his eyes had subsided, replaced with an inner light.

Was this the same man who had greeted her at the door just five nights ago? Somewhere over the course of the last four days, Erik had undergone a transformation. The anger and bitterness seemed to have diminished, replaced by a twinkle in his aquatic-colored eyes and a sultry smirk on his sensual lips. Even his words lacked the caustic bite that had almost brought tears to her eyes on occasion.

They were both oblivious to the small faces, watching from the top of the stairs. They were heading downstairs to eat breakfast when they saw Erik and Christine. Having never seen their uncle embrace anyone before, they were both rather curious. The genuine smile on his face and the joy they saw in him were rare; and they treasured the fact that they were witnessing it now. Even at seven years of age, they were aware of the importance of it.

She hadn't committed to going with him, and Erik didn't want to press his luck. "You don't have to go, Christine...I was just curious."

He had pulled away, leaving her ear lobe feeling very neglected. Christine was positive that she was pouting from the loss of his attentive mouth.

She gave him a playfully acerbic look, firmly chastising him without muttering a word. He chuckled, raising his hands in hopeless surrender, "Okay, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to make you think you had to come with me...that's all."

She smiled at that, quickly wrapping him in her embrace and planting a kiss on his smiling lips, "Give me five minutes, and I'll stun you with my transformation."

He watched her race up the stairs, noticing Peyton and Paige peeking through banisters that lined the open hall of the second floor. A wicked grin played on his features and he gave them an assuring wink. They gave each other a toothless grin and them bounded down the stairs the rest of the way, barely giving Christine a chance to react to their presence.

When they rounded the corner and were out of sight, Erik caught Christine's eye once more, pinning her with a rabid, wild, hungry gaze.

"You don't have to change a thing, Tinkerbell, you could stun me wearing a burlap sack and flip-flops."

His use of the name he'd called her the night they had wrestled rattled her insides, leaving her quivering like a bowl full of Jello. His voice was a weapon – felling her as easily as if he had wielded a dagger and pierced her heart. Even from ten feet away, it effected her as strongly as it would have had he been only inches away; powerful, calming - rich, dark chocolate....that's what it was to her.

"I have half a notion to come back down these stairs and kiss you soundly..." She stated; Erik lifted a brow as he eagerly awaited her descent, "....however, that will not get me dressed and ready to go, so I will forestall my threat of lip service until later..." she promised, lifting an approving brow his direction, "...and return momentarily."

Watching her continue her journey up the stairs, it occurred to Erik that he had completely lost control of the situation; he was powerless to stop her from stealing his heart, his soul....his very life. Instead of terrifying him as he would have thought it would, Erik discovered something about himself.

When it came to Christine, he enjoyed being powerless.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

_**Forgive me!! This second job is KILLING me! Anyway, just know that this story and you lovely readers are always on my mind; I will not leave you hanging (for too long!).**_

_**It can't always be a bed of roses...sometimes, LIFE happens...**_.

CHAPTER 15 – Road trip....same day....Tuesday....

San Antonio was awash with the thrumming life of humanity, even at ten in the morning. Erik was an aggressive driver, a fact that had Christine perched on the edge of her seat, her heart pounding frantically in her chest. However, despite his aggressiveness, she sensed he was in complete control and had a great deal of experience.

As they approached the airport, the construction work was constricting, hindering a quick entrance and keeping them from moving gracefully through traffic. Road rage was about to get the best of Erik, when Christine reached over and gently squeezed his hand. Dawning fell over him, a sort of strange, spiritual awareness that made him suddenly thankful for every breath that he took in. She was here, beside him, ready and willing to meet his best friend while standing by his side. It was more than he could have ever asked for, if he'd ever dared to do so.

A man could get used to this, especially a man who'd never had it before. What was he going to do when she was no longer there, taking his hand and stealing his breath? He wasn't going to think about it...enough said.

They had no more than walked into the baggage claim area of the airport when a massive, noisy crowd drew their attention; not that noisy crowds weren't expected in the middle of an international airport, but this particular crowd warned of something less....innocuous.

Tony Stark stood in the middle of the swamp of people, ninety percent of them women; Pepper Potts – his loyal assistant and so much more - at his side trying her best to look immune to the attention, but failing miserably. He was signing autographs, posing for pictures, blowing kisses, and making wise cracks....all of which were signature Tony.

Christine looked aghast when she recognized him, "Tony Stark?" She smirked, giving Erik and unbelievable stare, "You could have told me your best friend was Tony Stark."

Erik shrugged, not happy with her reaction or recognition; so much for wishing she had no idea who Tony Stark was. "He's just Tony to me...I knew him before he became the confident charmer that he is now. I roomed with him at M.I.T."

Jealousy gripped him – wrenching his gut until he felt like the only thing left for him to do was hit something. Bolts of unease and self-disgust were shooting through him, even as he caught the eye of his best friend from across the room.

"Alas my loyal subjects, I must bid you adieu....my carriage awaits." Tony waved them off as though they were mere chaff in the wind, took Peppers hand, and headed toward Erik, still holding the attention of the crowd. Suddenly, the locals recognized him and started drawing their own conclusions. Dark, foreboding shadows filled Erik's eyes, forcing Tony to shrug his shoulders in mock apology and offer an amusingly repentant smile.

Thankfully, airport security came to the rescue and pulled them both, along with their companions, to relative safety behind closed doors.

"We'll arrange for transport to your vehicle, Mr. Stark, no problem." The guard turned his star-filled eyes to Erik, "Mr. Miklos, what kind of car do you drive and I'll be happy to have it brought around to the back for you and it would be easier to you both to get away without any more incidents."

Erik and Tony both agreed that this option was the best and Erik readily handed over his keys and watched the young man leave. Outside, the local news stations and other media moguls were banging on the door for admission.

"Come on, Mr. Miklos, if you know Tony Stark than it can only be concluded that you know his secrets....and perhaps have a few of your own to share with the public...." one young reporter shouted, eager to make his mark on the world, "...they have a right to know."

"I blame you for this...you had to fly commercial..." Erik spewed, baring down on the shorter man who stood firmly before him, "...you couldn't bring your blasted private plane for this....nooooo...." Christine wanted to laugh at the comical influx of his voice and the way he stared at Tony, but thought better of it, "....you had to draw more attention to yourself, and subsequently to me, by flying on a commercial flight."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, looking completely unaffected by Erik's display of anger.

"Is he always like this around you?" Christine asked, finally dispelling some of the stress in the air with the soft amusement in her voice.

Tony smirked at her, his eyes full of mischief and mirth, "Pretty much... yeah." He stretched his hand out to take hers, "My, my....what treasure do we have here?"

Erik stiffened, not even close to forgiving Tony for the invasion into his privacy that had just taken place. He watched with avid interest and narrowed eyes as Tony took Christine's petite hand to his lips and placed a kiss atop it with more finesse and charisma than anyone had a right to possess.

"Erik...she's enchanting."

Erik wasn't too proud of himself right then; his thoughts were filled with his fists pummeling Tony into a bloody pulp and then pouring salt on the wounds....all because of a woman Erik couldn't even claim as his own.

It was enough to make him crazy.

Christine wasn't taken with him, despite his charm. He was too much of a tomcat for her tastes, he knew his assets and flaunted them regularly. That didn't, however, keep her from finding him attractive, appreciating his manly form and the twinkle that sparkled in his intelligent brown eyes. She chanced a glance at Erik, finding his jaw tensing and his eyes glaring, but otherwise he was handling himself with great restraint.

"My name is Christine, and I'm staying with Erik right now....a house guest I suppose, for lack of a better term."

Tony, being well aware of the sexual tension his presence was causing between the two, quirked a brow and chuckled, "Erik...you rascal, all this time I thought you were gay."

Erik took a deep fleeting breath, drew his hands into fists, and tried his best to keep from wrapping them around his friends neck.

"Tony, I swear....someday I'm going to...."

Erik was interrupted by the guard coming back and leading them through a hidden door, for the most part, and into an elevator. There was silence for a few blessed moments; Christine and Pepper shared a quizzical look, relaying their desire to cage both men and go live somewhere quiet and tropical, only allowing them out when they wanted to play nice.

Just before the elevator doors opened, Christine leaned into Erik and whispered – loud enough that all could hear but pretending to make if for his ears only, "I can honestly vouch for the fact that you are not gay....if that makes you feel better."

He rolled his eyes and dropped his head to his chest, shaking it in disbelief. However, inside, he was smiling brightly...she had enjoyed the bantering, teased him mercilessly, and was now wrapping her arms around his arm, holding his hand between both of hers.

Tony caught his eye and they shared a moment too, a moment when Tony took a good look at the woman who had stolen the heart of his best friend...and then he realized something. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes....

"I know you...you're Christine Drummond, CEO of Drummond Pharmaceuticals...out of Dallas. I read about you in an article that highlighted some of the most powerful women in the country...you made the list..." he seemed oblivious to the cold, penetrating eyes that speared him, "...congratulations."

Christine felt her chest cave in as she looked at Erik's shocked expression. He cocked his head inquiringly, inviting her to expound on Tony's revelation. Something she had every intention of doing - until there was so much pain clutching her abdomen, causing her to double over. She reached desperately for Erik as she fell to her knees, gripping his forearm powerfully.

"Christine?" He asked, panic filling his eyes as he knelt down beside her.

Before she could answer, the pain went from horrible to excruciating and the only thing she saw coming was a wall of blackness.

Tony watched the scene before him as though is were a horror film. Erik dialed 911 and remained by Christine's side, soothing and calming her, even while she remained unconscious. He had never seen his friend this emotional before, that alone was disturbing enough, but to know that he had caused whatever was going on with this petite, young woman – that was excruciating.

۞۞۞

Christine woke up to a young nurse taking her blood pressure and another one drawing blood. It was disconcerting to say the least. The last thing she remembered was Erik looking at her with eyes filled with betrayal...or something else she hadn't quite recognized. He had seemed concerned for her, even after he had discovered her deception.

She was going to tell him, really she was; now it was too late. Tears welled up, forcing her to relive all that had happened; a second chance to regret her actions and beg his forgiveness.

Where was he?

"Who brought me here?" She asked.

"Two dark-haired men, one with a scar and a limp, and a woman."

Obviously the woman had no idea who either of the men were, thank goodness. She didn't want Erik swamped with attention – something he abhorred.

"Could you send Erik back, please?"

"Erik...he is one of the men?"

"Yes, the taller of the two." Christine identified.

The nurse smiled softly, "Ah yes, the scarred man."

A sudden burst of indignation fired within her, was this the way it always was...did people automatically judge him by the scars he bore?

"Yes, the **beautiful** man." The nurse looked up into toxic eyes and realized her error. Christine ground her lips together, swallowing the caustic words that threatened. "Please send him back here."

There was a note of warning in her voice that told the young nurse that the man in question was a very special man to this woman. She quickly finished her task and instructed the other nurse to follow her out.

"I'll send him right in."

Christine had used her most intimidating tone on the woman, the one that she had developed for the board room; it had made grown men tremble on occasion, but she hated to use it. Yes, Erik was scarred; yes, he did limp; and yes, he had seen more damage and been damaged more than any soul should ever experience, but he had survived and become the man he was because of it...the man she loved.

The silence left her a few moments to assess how she felt; exhausted, sore, empty...these were a few of the words that came to mind. She wanted desperately to see Erik, to feel his arms around her so that his solid strength could assure her that all was going to be fine.

A few moments later, Erik gingerly opened the door and strolled quietly in to stand beside her. The expression on his face was hard to read, rather noncommittal for the most part. He kept his eyes hooded, not giving away the slightest hint of the thoughts swirling behind them. The way he carried himself didn't speak of anger or betrayal, just hurt.

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

His hooded, pained gaze drifted up to hers, leaving a torrid trail on her skin. He felt that she had withheld the truth about herself to create some sort of distance between them, she could see it written there in the stormy teal pools of his eyes. He felt she didn't trust him with who she really was....it was so far from the truth it was almost laughable.

"I'm surprised you asked for me."

Oh that voice....it moved over and through her like a river of satin and velvet; smooth, luxurious, and rich. The visceral part of her reacted to it with primal urges, wanting to wrap herself in it for eternity; the practical side of her knew that she might just lose him if she couldn't make him understand.

She reached down and lifted his hand, holding it against her chest, willing him to read her mind.

"Why?"

The question was simple, asked in a voice that was so soft she was uncertain whether he had said it aloud or in her mind. She wanted to be the petulant child and just shrug her shoulders and bat her eyelashes, knowing daddy would make it all better. But that wasn't going to happen.

"I have wanted to tell you so many times over the last five days....I just never..." she sighed, closing her eyes against the onslaught of nerves that suddenly made her nauseated, "...I never seemed to find the right time."

Erik pulled away, pacing the floor like an agitated, caged panther, "You couldn't have told me while you were feeding me line after line about wanting to learn to sing better, or play the piano...feeding my need to harness your talent..." _(be near you)_, he thought the latter as he spoke the previous, a dull ache burning in the pit of his stomach. "You had the perfect opportunity when you actually took my mouth to yours and showed me what a kiss could be...the whole time thinking what a sap I was to think you could ever be interested in someone like me.

"I have nothing to offer a woman like you..." he gripped his head with his hand, simultaneously rubbing both temples as though his head was about to explode. "...there I was, graciously offering to pay for your car repairs, provide room and board for you while the repairs were made..." he scoffed at his own stupidity, "...and even entertain the idea of having you stick around for the lessons you begged me for.

"But you don't need me for any of that...and the one thing you do need, I can't give you."

"Erik, I..." Christine stammered, tears rolling haphazardly down her face. His words were stunning to her; burning her from the inside out. He truly thought she was playing a game with his affections. She didn't know what hurt the most; the fact that he had no self-confidence and wasn't willing to fight for himself, or the fact that he thought she would do such a thing.

"Don't..." he interrupted, thwarting her words with the piercing pressure of his tone, "...I'm not sure what I feel right now....I only know that there are a lot of things I've done that I'll regret for as long as I live...." she saw moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes; his deep, sorrowful emotions having turned them a crisp green, "...but I'll never regret giving you even a little bit of myself."

He turned to go, this shoulders slightly less squared, as though he weight of the world was crushing them. Christine experienced a moment of complete panic right then, watching him walk away and needing to say so much to him. There wasn't a worse feeling in all the world than watching someone you love turn their back on you.

"Erik..." she begged, her tone infused with regret and timid hope, "...don't go, there's so much left to talk about."

He had reached the door, his hand poised to open it, when it swung open, hitting him in the head. He doubled over, the pain shooting into his skull and temporarily decommissioning him. Christine wanted to jump out of bed and rush to his aid, but her energy seemed to have been zapped.

Della rushed into the room, concerned only with getting to Christine, Tony following quickly on her heels and the two to them stood beside Christine, completely oblivious to Erik's agony in the corner.

"Christine, I'm so sorry....I didn't even think to warn you about Tony," Della started, glancing at the man beside her, "and his impulsive nature. He's a dear really...a little childish at times, maybe even impetuous, but he's a dear."

Tony shook his head and then smile, "I truly am sorry about outing you in front of Erik...although I'm not sure why you would not have told him who you are." He leaned in a whispered loudly, "Since you know who I am, you also know I'm not very good at keeping secret identities secret."

Pepper stood just inside the door, tending to Erik; she was the only one of the group who had noticed he was still there. Christine wasn't entirely certain she like the other woman fussing over him, but part of her was thankful Pepper was there to help him.

Tony left Christine's side to stand with Erik and the three of them started to leave the room....and they almost made it.

Della was still leaning into Christine, caressing her forehead as she would a sick child. "He and Erik are like twins separated at birth....I swear they were." she smiled. Not thinking before she spoke, Della allowed her concern to overshadow her discretion, "Is the baby okay? Have they even checked?"

Erik's exit was halted by her words. He slowly turned back around and captured Christine's attention with eyes that were full of shock and something else that was undefinable.

"What are you talking about? What baby?" He slowly moved toward the bed, his eyes never wavering from Christine's imploring gaze. "What baby?" He repeated.

"I'm sorry Christine, I was concerned and not thinking …." Della whispered.

"You're pregnant..." Erik backed away, another kind of shock dancing over his features as he tried to take it all in.

Christine's resolve was quickly failing her as she watched the different emotions cross his face. So much rested on what she had to tell him...things she couldn't really elaborate on right now.

"I haven't seen the doctor yet...so much happened and I was out for just about all of it....I don't know what to say."

Erik was feeling a plethora of different things right then, and none of them the least bit familiar to him. He was feeling jealousy and anger at the jerk who had done this to her, anger at himself for caring so much, a crazy notion to protect her and her unborn child from the world, the exhausting need he had to take her in his arms and show her exactly what he was feeling...so much bombarded him at once and he had no idea what to do about any of them.

He studied her once again, his eyes unreadable and his expression masked. There was so much to tell him, but a hospital bed was not the place for such a discussion. He stood beside the bed, fixed and serious; his body language screaming loudly of repressed emotions. Gone was the man who had held her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that had surprised him and left her wanting.

"This doesn't change anything, Erik." She assured him, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

He lifted doubtful eyes, still holding his face as still as a statue. "Doesn't it?" There was pain and betrayal evident in the quiet uncertainty of his voice. "What about the baby's father? He's entitled to what's his."

Her emotions were already at the breaking point, her hormones sending them shooting in all different directions; the look in his eyes pushed her past the breaking point and tears swelled over the brim of her eyes, leaving wet trails down her cheeks.

"You think that after all he put me through...the cheating, the lying, the stealing....everything...." she looked at him with pained anger swelling in her eyes, "...that I'd just rush back into his arms? You think I'm that desperate for someone to love me?"

He remained unmoving; a rock in the wind; when he spoke it was as though ice filled his veins. "You must be, you went after me."

Hurt beyond anything she had experienced, and fearful of the unknown, Christine's temper finally broke. "Fine Erik..." she threw at him, "...right now I don't like you very much. I need to take some time to think."

He understood what that meant, she wanted him out; out of the room and out of her sight. Before he could actually turn to leave, she spoke again, drawing his attention back to her.

"The kiss we shared...could you not feel what I was feeling in that kiss?"

He had, only he didn't understand it. He had no experience with discerning such things. She was the only woman he had ever loved; ever kissed. What was he supposed to feel?

His silence, however, only succeeded in making her less tolerant of his moodiness. "Please leave Erik, I can't stand looking at you right now."

This time, she turned from him, dismissing him as though he was of no more importance than a spiteful child or an unwanted house guest.

He had forgotten that Della was there, standing patiently in the background, having witnessed his fall from grace. As he faced her, she meant his look with a blank stare that hurt as much as a slap in the face would have. He nodded his agreement and walked out the door.

For the first time in his life, he felt like the monster that he had been accused of being.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!! Don't forget to pray for the members of our Armed Forces; without them, everything we know as American's would be lost. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

God bless.

CHAPTER 16 – later that night and beyond....

"Man, you are a friggin' idiot."

Erik couldn't even muster a reply that would do Tony's insult justice, he just dropped his head down onto the bar in front of him. They sat there, Tony on his left and Thax on his right, contemplating Erik's current status as the reigning king of fools. Silly him had thought that having his two best friends around him at a time like this would be an uplifting experience....perhaps he really was an idiot.

"You've done some pretty wacky things in your life; some that should have probably killed you."

Thax was a fairly large guy, so Erik's spontaneous need to beat him was quickly squelched when he took another look at the situation and decided that yes, he had done some pretty wacky things in his lifetime. And yes, they should have killed him.

His mind whirled with the possibilities. Was that still an option? The being dead part? Because personally, he had pretty much determined he would be better off six feet under; if the pain of the last few hours didn't kill him, he was pretty certain Della probably would.

"Yeah, anyone ever hear of a death wish?" Tony asked, directing the question to the lingering people that seemed interested in their conversation, then dropping his eyes to Erik, "That was you, my man, not too many years ago. Death ain't all it's cracked up to be, my friend." Tony advised, drawing upon his recent experience with terrorism and those who had no regard for human life, "It's very lonely, cold, desolate...and the food is awful."

Erik scowled at him, wondering where in the blue blazes he came up with some of the things he allowed to exit his mouth. Of course, one had to realize the source and just shrug it off to operator head space.

"Of course, so is Idiotland, where you are currently living." Thax added, not willing to give up that angle just yet. "It's like Disneyland, only..." he squinted his eyes, looked toward heaven, and tightened his lips - then he shook his head, "...not so much."

Looking incredulously from one to the other, Erik wondered what the chances were of getting any decent advice from either one of them. They seemed intent on whirling insults his direction rather than being supportive as buddies were supposed to be.

He stared hopelessly at his empty glass, "Is there going to be a time of consoling and serious drinking....?" he asked, "Because, quite frankly I'm growing weary of the beating."

Tony, always the one to turn to in times of need, whacked Erik solidly on the back and chugged down the remains of his mineral water, "Come on man, cheer up. You're in the pits right now, but you'll climb out. You always do."

Erik sketched his friend a deadpan stare; the very stare that had made grown men scamper away in fear for their lives. "This coming from the man has never wanted for anything in his life...who has achieved super-hero status without even trying..." Erik's voice and gaze trailed off for a moment before he lifted them once more to look at his friend, "...things come easy for you Tony."

Tony leaned back, lifted his hands defensively and arched an impressive brow; effectively challenging Erik to say anything else. "Yeah, I've had it easy compared to you Erik, but you don't help yourself out much either." He pointed out. "You are your own worst enemy and everyone can tell that you hate yourself. Try being less hard on yourself and focus on what's good. It's not hard to do the whole super-hero thing when you're in the right place at the right time and have the skills to make the best of it..." Tony stated, "....you could do it."

"Oh please!" Erik scoffed, his hard smile offering not even the slightest bit of softness or humor.

"Man, I am serious! I can see you draped in black, donning a cape..." his eyes closed as he pictured Erik's alter-ego with great detail, "....possibly a mask...Dude!" His eyes flew open in wonderment, "I know!! We could call you 'The Black Phantom', or 'The Dark Knight'! No wait...!" he narrowed his eyes, his face flooded with dismay and disappointment, "...I think those are taken..." his voice trailed off in thought.

Erik rolled his eyes and tried to not to wrap his hands around his friends neck. This was getting him nowhere...fast. He needed a solution of some king before he lost his mind.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back as far as he could on his barstool. "I'm just saying, sometimes life calls for a change. I love ya man, but I'm not going back down into the sewer with you if that is where you are determined to go. I've been there and found it lacking the finer things in life." He leaned forward once more and lopped an arm across Erik's shoulder's, "...I gave up the drinking and other not-so-constructive habits when reality hit me hard."

Tony's voice lowered to a serious tone that always drew peoples attention, "Seeing young soldiers killed by weapons I designed to protect them..." he breathed in a staggered breath, and Erik could have sworn there were tears in his deep brown eyes, "...it has a way of gripping you until you can't draw another breath."

"That's why you wanted to shut down weapons production, isn't it?"" Erik asked, cocking his head to the left. "It's why you designed and put into practice the titanium alloy suit we jokingly designed all those years ago."

Brandishing a cocky smile, a boyish wink, and wriggling eyebrows, Tony purposely lightened his mood, remembering the feel of flying through the air in that suit, "Yeah, and it works better than either of us could have imagined."

"Sure it does...look who finalized the specs and actually built it." Erik agreed, pride filling his voice and eyes.

Once again, Tony whacked him on the back, wearing a huge grin, "Hey, that's enough serious mumbo-jumbo...let's get down to business."

"I'm with ya there man..." Thax agreed, leaning across the bar to look at Tony, "...we need to help Erik get his woman back....I don't know what I'd do without Isis."

Tony grinned at Thax and sucked in a long, whistling breath, "She's a beauty, your Isis..." Tony agreed with a grin, "...that woman has the longest pair of legs I've ever seen."

"You keep your grimy, female-defiling hands off her and you may keep your head." Thax stated. The words came out like a threat, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that belied the tone of his voice.

"I wouldn't dream of stealing your girl, Thax...I wouldn't survive it." Tony said with a soft laugh, "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view."

Erik continued to look from one to the other, his head passing back and forth as though watching a tennis match. It was fascinating, really it was, but his very life was crumbling down around him and no one seemed to care. It may have been him that walked out the door, but she had totally dismissed him; he'd been left no choice but to leave. His fear of rejection wouldn't allow him to chase after her, but that had been his first thought.

"How long have you known Christine?"

The question came from Tony, startling Erik out of his woeful thoughts. The reality of how little time had passed since Christine had penetrated his defenses and claimed his heart shocked him. He regarded his well-meaning friend with a skeptical look.

"About four days altogether....why?"

Ignoring Erik's question, Tony went on, "Four days....are you in love with her?"

That was the question. Staring straight in front of him, Erik contemplated his feelings for Christine, taking into consideration all that he had learned this night. He lifted his eyes and smirked at his friend, a chuckle adding humor to the seriousness of the moment, "I am...and I have been since the first time I lay eyes on her."

"It's about time."

Both men looked at Thax, making the younger man lift a brow and shrug his broad shoulders, "What...? you were thinking it, I just had the guts to say it."

Erik's chortle made both of them lift their brows in bewilderment. Erik caught their questioning gazes and stared them down with a practical look of his own.

"I'm not exactly the cream of the crop, gentlemen...I'm more like the thing that the cat dragged in." Erik offered, trying to explain his reluctance in pursuing the opposite sex.

Tony gave him a shove, almost dismounting him from the stool, "So you say, and still she seems to find some redeeming quality in you." He shook his head at Erik, much like a father would a misbehaving child, "Stop thinking of just yourself and start thinking about her....it hurt her to watch you leave. In fact, I'd bet she wants you to go after her."

Erik downed the rest of his Scotch and cast a withering look at the man who knew him best, "Go after he? She made her wishes quite clear, Tony...or did you miss it." He looked toward the heavens for support, "The last thing she wants right now is to see me."

Tony looked at Thax, Thax looked at Tony, and they both looked at Erik. Tony rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, "Man, you don't know nothin' about women."

"And you're just **now **figuring this out....how long have you known me?" Erik chastised, casting his friend an incredulous look.

Paying his sarcasm no mind, Tony went on as though Erik had never spoken. "Women often say one thing and mean the exact opposite....thereby, it is my educated opinion that she really does want see you,"

"True...and her parting words to you were inspired by the passion of the moment combined with the recent news about her pregnancy....and hormones...we can't forget about those." Thax added, nodding at Tony in agreement.

Erik didn't know if his friends were particularly knowledgeable on such things, or if they just wanted to throw their two cents in. He wasn't a very good judge of what was good advice and what was not; at least not on such subjects as this.

"What do I have to offer her?" Erik paused, expecting some form of an answer. "Tell me..." he spiked his hands through his hair and blew out a long breath, "...because I can't figure it out. The woman is as rich as I am, she's powerful, strong-minded, highly intelligent....what do I have that could possibly hold her?"

"That sounds like something you need to be asking her." Thax suggested with Tony nodding in agreement.

"Suck it up man, go crawling back to her on your hands and knees and she may just see fit to forgive you for being an idiot." Tony was never one to mince words, that was a fact, and most of the time Erik was thankful to have such honesty, but today it just managed to make him angry.

He'd never begged anyone for anything – but he'd never had anything worth humbling himself for until now. She deserved to know how he felt, even if she never wanted to see him again. The thought of her not in his life tore him to pieces, as he knew it would, but he was tired of taking the cowards way out and avoiding human entanglements of any kind. He supposed he'd either survive the heartache or die from the pain of it, but he wouldn't be a slave to his demons any longer.

۞۞۞

After sending Erik away, Christine went through pure hell. Dr. Benji Lieberman came in after an hour or so, his salt and pepper hair reminding Christine of her father. He was a kind, good-hearted man with a warm smile, someone Christine would have liked immediately had the circumstances been different.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Drummond." His soft brown eyes held all the remorse his voice sounded, relaying the awful news without saying anything more.

Christine drew her knees up, cradling them against her chest as grief paralyzed her. Only yesterday she had found out she was going to be a mother. And tonight, she had lost her baby.

"Had you been experiencing any difficulties recently?" The doctor asked softly, writing something in her chart.

Christine couldn't even find her voice, such was the wall of emotion in her throat. She gripped Della's hand, silently pleading with her to answer the doctor's questions.

"She just found out yesterday morning that she was expecting. Before that, she'd had the normal nausea episodes....some lower back pain and occasional cramping."

Della had never been pregnant, and when Christine had told her of all that she was going through, Della hadn't thought to consider that any of her symptoms weren't normal.

Dr. Lieberman nodded solemnly, scribbling down notes as he listened.

Christine squeezed Della's hand before releasing it and wiping the tears from her eyes. She swallowed hard, steeling herself to tell her story. "I was out late last night...on a date....and only had slight cramping. Today started out fine, but my last trip to the restroom showed some spotting, and that was just as we were entering the airport."

The doctor finished his notes and regarded her carefully, "The cramping was a sure sign that something wasn't right...did you not tell your OB/GYN yesterday at the appointment?"

"I was so shocked and thrilled about the news that I forgot...I just thought it was normal."

He nodded, knowing there wasn't any way of changing the outcome. "There was nothing that could have been done anyway....the miscarriage was imminent." He patted her hand reassuringly, "We will need to do a D & C and then you can go home."

So that was it...all that was left of her baby was a procedure meant to rid her of any evidence he had ever existed. The sheer agony of it tore her to pieces from the inside out. The tiny life that had barely begun, but had imprinted itself on her soul...was gone. Her only joy was knowing that her baby was with it's Creator.

۞۞۞

The ride home was silent; but both occupants of the car could feel the surrounding darkness as though it was a living, breathing entity. Christine could not stop crying, her only desire at this point was to feel Erik's arms around her...carrying this burden for her as he comforted her as no other could.

But she had turned away from him...leaving him to wonder where he fit into her life...what, if any, purpose he had in her life. It had all gone so very wrong.

"What have I done?" Christine whispered, not expecting Della to answer in any way. "All he wanted was honesty and I threw it back in his face...." she glanced at her companion with horror in her eyes, "....I'm a horrible person....I really am."

"You're not a horrible person, Christine....you're hormones are messed up, you were nervous and anxious....you reacted out of stress." Della tried to shine some reason onto the situation, but Christine seemed intent on blaming herself.

"What could he possibly be thinking right now? I've treated him so badly...flat out told him that I didn't like him very much and practically threw him out the door with my vicious words stabbing him in the back..." she clapped a hand over her mouth, "...how could I tell him I couldn't stand to look at him. He'll take that all wrong."

Della continued to listen, knowing her words would do little to stop the barrage of thoughts that undoubtedly filled Christine's mind. The woman seemed determined to chastise herself for wrongs she had done; never mind that Erik probably deserved some of what she had dished out to him.

"I never thought I could love some one as quickly and as completely as I love that man. He has become part of me; like the air I breathe." _Like the baby I had barely known_. She almost let the tears overwhelm her, but her determined and strong nature pushed the despair away and started sorting through ways to make things right between them once again.

"I really know very little about him, except what you've told me....but despite that, I feel as though I've known him all my life....it's like my soul cries out for him."

Her cell phone rang, startling them both. Christine knew immediately, without looking at the number, that it was Paul.

"I know, but I'm okay." Christine answered before she even had a chance to say "hi". "How did you find out, anyway?" She didn't elaborate, giving Paul any inclination that she had ever been pregnant. She didn't want it to somehow get back to Raoul.

He must have made some comment about having his ways; making Christine roll her eyes and arch a brow. "Yeah, Tony's here, I have met him....but he's not the reason I'm staying in San Antonio right now."

Tony Stark; the man was more well known than she had originally thought. She really needed to get out more, keep up with what's going on in the world – especially as the media tells it. Every time he sneezed it made the papers, and her name had somehow been linked with his in the recent "Hot Spots" celebrity sightings news.

"No Paul, he has his assistant with him, Pepper Potts. Besides, he's not my type...I'm not interested." She sighed loudly and her shoulders slagged, "I've only just met him, he's a friend of Erik's."

The most probable question followed that announcement, "Erik Miklos, he's is the reason I'm staying here for now. I've fallen in love with him Paul...and I want him in my life." Another pause as the man on the other end of the line obviously put his thoughts into the matter. "I know Paul, but after seven years with Raoul, five of them being locked into a terrible marriage, I am thinking that as quickly as I fell for Erik that I need to trust my heart on this one."

The man must have assured her that all was well in her absence, because she visibly relaxed and wiped away a few stray tears, "Thanks, I will. You'd like him, by the way, he's a genius – literally, as well as a musician."

Shock covered her features as she continued to listen. After a few quiet moments she responded, "You do? How do you know him?"

Christine listened avidly, and then the conversation ended. She didn't say anything at first and then turned to Della as they pulled into the driveway of Erik's home.

"Paul knows who Erik is....his name was mentioned with mine as being associated with Tony. The media is all over it."

"How?" Della wasn't surprised really, Erik was a local celebrity whether he believed it or not.

"He travels here quite a bit every year, for business and such; he says he's seen several of the productions Erik has produced and written." Christine smiled, "His entire tone changed as soon as he knew who Erik was."

Della graced her with an amused smile, "He apparently wasn't too thrilled with notion of you being interested in Erik until that point?"

"No...he doesn't want me getting hurt again." Christine assured her, "But like I said, once he found out who Erik was, he seemed more than happy to encourage a relationship."

"Are you afraid you're on the rebound after Raoul?" Della asked. She didn't want Erik getting hurt either, and if Christine suddenly decided that the last thing she needed was another relationship, he'd be left to pick up the pieces of his life once more....no one wanted that.

"No, not at all. My marriage to Raoul was over two years ago as far as I'm concerned. It just hadn't had the dignity to lay down and die until I caught him cheating on me."

Della twined her hands together and looked into the night sky, clear and perfect even through the windshield, "Why didn't you tell Paul about the baby?"

Christine's heart clenched at the reminder, "There's no need to worry him. Besides, it would only make him angry and dead set on seeking some sort of retribution from Raoul." That was simply unacceptable. "I just want him out of my life for good."

Della understood that.

They exited the car and looked expectantly around for any sign that Erik was home, but they found none. Christine felt bereft of his presence, berating herself once again for running him off. She was going to have to do some serious negotiating to get back in his good graces; if he ever wanted to speak to her again.

It was way past their bedtime, but Paige and Peyton were perched at the top of the stairs just waiting for someone to come home.

"I tried to get them to go to bed, but they were too eager to see Tony." Francois stated, "Is he with you?" He looked around, waiting for another person to enter the house, "Where is Erik?"

Della turned toward the tall Frenchman, her eyes immediately taking in the slight curl in his chestnut hair and straight, aristocratic nose. He was a looker, this man. Her pulses pounded every time he was close to her....or every time she thought of him...it really didn't matter.

Christine watched her reaction with amusement, despite her own trepidations. Something had to be done to put a spark under these two before they wasted their lives away just flirting with it.

"Erik and Christine had a bit of a falling out...Tony is with Erik and Thax, trying to do...." she paused for a moment – obviously trying to come up with something, "...whatever it is men do at a time like this."

Francois looked from one woman to the other, a bemused look banked in his eyes.

"A falling out? Over what?"

"Things....it really doesn't matter right now. What's more important is fixing it." Christine said.

Her thoughts were filled with Erik, picturing him in any number of situations...some that made her heart stutter in panic and others that raised the green monster of jealousy. Where was he?

After she left the room, Della moved toward Francois, openly inviting him to realize how she felt about him. If she had learned nothing over the last few days, she had learned that withholding ones true feelings only succeeded in making one miserable. Della had no desire to be miserable.

Francois's lips lifted into a knowing smile when she stopped right in front of him, looking up into his eyes with more than a little bit of anxiety shining in her gaze.

"Life's too short for regrets and what-ifs...." Francois cocked his head to the left, regarding her with interest as she gently ran her hands up the hard muscles of his arms. When she lifted her eyes again, he saw the moist evidence of tears, "....Christine lost the baby tonight."

Francois silently gasped, lowering into a chair as he reached to bring Della into his embrace before she collapsed. Her shoulder's trembled, as grief shackled her, and she melted in his arms as though nothing else could ward off the pain.

"Oh Francois...she wanted that baby so badly..." She sank even further into his shoulder, "...now it's gone and she never even felt it move..." she lifted her pulsing green gaze to him, "...it's like she was never pregnant except for the hole in her heart."

He tenderly pushed tendrils of her hair back from her face, placing soft kisses along her hairline. This was where he had always wanted her....in his arms.

"Does Erik know?" He asked, fearing the worst.

"We can't find him...they had a bit of a fight at the hospital before she knew she had lost the baby. She sent him on his way saying she couldn't stand to be around him at that point." Della nuzzled into his neck, sending delightful rivers of pleasure of his spine, "She didn't mean it...it was just a passionate response to the chaotic events of the evening."

"I can see when they look at each other that they are soul mates...there is nothing that can prevent this wheel from spinning. Erik's insecurity is slowing disappearing and Christine is strong enough, in body, mind, and spirit, to take him on at his worst." Francois pulled back, sketching her a warm smile. "There may be a little bit of rough terrain ahead, but the meadow is just over the mountain."

Della wrapped her arms around him tighter, fearing he would disappear; nuzzling into this warmth – devouring his strength. "I'm in love with you Francois...I have been for a very long time."

He pulled back, lifting her face towards his with just an urging of his finger. His sensual mouth lifted at one side, presenting a smirk that turned her insides to mush. Too long she had wondered what he would taste like, what he would feel like against her; thoughts of that nature had taunted her for ages.

His hand wrapped through her hair urging her the rest of the way toward him, his other hand skimmed the soft curve of her cheek until it found the rapid pulse at her neck fluttering beneath his fingers. The moment his mouth claimed hers would forever remain etched in her memory; the savage gentleness of his coaxing tongue and the complete surrender of her heart; nothing had ever been so right.

۞۞۞

Somewhere over the course of the last two hours, Thax had called Isis and Tony had called Pepper. Both women showed up at the bar amidst whistles and lustful gazes, which were always in generous supply at a bar.

No one was drinking, at least not anything that would put a buzz on any of them. Erik had never been much of a drinker, nor had Thax. Tony had once been a slave to alcohol, but no longer...he'd been clean and sober for years.

"I'm pretty sure she didn't mean it Erik...she was just hurt and scared." Pepper reassured him in her soft, unassuming voice.

Erik scoffed at her, but regretted it as soon as he did it. He lifted a smile her way, "With all due respect, Pepper, you don't even know her that well...." he paused to consider his words and frowned, "....neither do I for that matter."

Isis scooted up to the table, leaning into Thax more thoroughly, "Sometimes that's the beauty of it; relationships should always be growing and full of discovery and newness...at least you have a reason to pursue a conversation with her, you want to get to know her better."

"Go home, Erik....talk through it with her. Learn what she's thinking and go from there. It's not doing either of you any good to stay away from each other."

Tony sounded wizened and seasoned, having learned a great deal from many failed, shallow relationships. It was no secret how Pepper felt about him, but she always held him at arms length. Erik wondered if the woman would ever allow her heart to be truly owned by Tony. Of course, Tony had no idea of his own feelings for his beautiful assistant. Right now, it was a mutual "need" relationship.

Pushing himself to a standing position, Erik stabbed some money into Thax's hand and started out the door. It was time to be a man and face his inhibitions, no matter how unpleasant they might be. If she truly did not want him in her life, he would walk away from her, give her back the remains of his heart as it would be of no further use to him.

Today had been Tony's birthday, but with the sordid events that clouded it, they had not had a chance to celebrate in any manner. Erik had promised they would get together tomorrow, following whatever happened with Christine. Tony would be there for him, as would Thax, despite their keen need to constantly tease him.

They watched him exit the bar with not even a glance backward. "Have you ever seen the man this lost?" Thax asked Tony, wondering when the last time was that he had seen Erik so enslaved by anything.

"Not over a woman...no. At least he has managed to sway my opinion that he was possibly gay...." Tony jested, "...but if that were the case, he most likely would have made a play on me, I'm irresistible you know."

Everyone at the table just rolled their eyes and chuckled, the man would never change.

۞۞۞

Erik didn't go right home, he drove the scenic tour twice, thoughts filling his head and keeping him from going home. He wasn't over thinking anything, he just didn't want to chance Christine's anger and disappointment any further. She had asked that he go away; she obviously needed time and he was going to give her whatever she required.

At the last moment, he decided to get a hotel in town so as not to awaken the household by making any noise upon his return. Since he was going to be staying in town, he decided to join Tony and Pepper at the Hyatt. The hotel boasted a beautiful view of the city, resting adjacent to The Riverwalk and many of the other attractions that San Antonio had to offer.

Erik had never paid much attention to such things. His business trips had consisted of a hurry-up-and-get-this-over-with attitude that often left him in a vulgar mood and lacking appreciation for common amenities such as scenery and five-star dining.

He gave Tony's cell a call, just to let him know he was just a couple of rooms down the hall. When Tony found that out, he rushed over and stood at the door Erik had opened to him, giving his friend a hard stare down that he hoped conveyed his utter disappointment.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously. "You're supposed to be home, tending to Christine."

Erik cast Tony a rather heated look and ushered the man over to the leather couch.

"She asked me to go away, give her some space; I intend to do just that. I'll give her the time she requested before I barge back into her life demanding to know where I stand. She deserves that much from me."

"What if – in this blessed time you're giving her – she decides she can't take it and heads back to Dallas? What are you going to do if that happens?"

Tony asked the question with a guarded expression on his face; and expression Erik seldom saw play upon his friends features. Tony was truly concerned for the outcome of this little drama that was unfolding before him.

Erik folded his hands before him, then brought them up to rest beneath his chin. His voice held only a slight quiver when he spoke, "Then it will be painfully obvious that I never had the means to keep her in the first place."

For the next two hours, until two in the morning, Erik and Tony discussed everything from the president to the type of music they were enjoying at the present time.

"I've got to go get some sleep if we're going to hit the fairway tomorrow....I'll be like a zombie if I don't."

"Thanks Tony, you've helped me through this. I hope it has a happy ending."

"I don't." Tony responded, seriously. "I hope it has a happy beginning, a spectacular middle...and that there is no ending."

It was at times like this that Erik remembered why he loved Tony Stark.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 – Wednesday – After midnight but before six in the morning...

He hadn't come home yet. For most of the night she had been up waiting for him; hoping to talk about things and get them out in the open and resolved as quickly as possible.

But he wasn't home.

She wandered the halls and shadows of the house, trying to work out the twisted anxiety that had gripped her muscles and nerves. The fear that ate at her was that Erik's lack of experience in relationships and her inability to curb her flaring temper just might have cost them whatever fragile bonds they had formed. The gnawing, consuming need to hunt him down and show him just what he meant to her – despite her moral fortitude – was about to reach a boiling point.

Many things went through her mind in the quiet, haunting hours of the morning. Somewhere in the distance she heard a wolf cry; the sound was lonely and gut-wrenching, making Christine feel lost in a world that had suddenly become new to her. So much had happened in the five days she had been here; so much that she never would have expected, but had needed nonetheless.

Love had become real to her for the first time in her life, leading her down a path she was eager to trod, but with which she was unfamiliar. She wondered now, had she ever really loved Raoul enough to have committed to him in any way? Parts of her battled, arguing that in order to have given him all that she had given him, she had to have loved him; but had that love been sustainable? Had it been the kind of love that would have endured hardships indicative of lifelong commitments?

Christine didn't feel that it had been. If he hadn't cheated on her, or been the scumbag that he was, would their marriage have had a chance?

Sadly, Christine had to be honest with herself and admit that it would not have. She supposed it really hadn't been fair to either of them for her to allow her parents to influence her life decisions; she just hadn't loved Raoul like she should have, and it was painfully obvious that he hadn't loved her either.

Somewhere around four in the morning she slipped into the conservatory-gym-media room – she didn't think there was anything you couldn't do in this room. It was huge and open; one quarter of the room filled with a grand piano, violin, cello, and a few other instruments. Another quarter was a recording studio complete with sound room and everything, another quarter was a work-out gym area that would rival most gyms open to the public, and the other quarter consisted of a sitting area with a flat screen, plasma television, home theater surround sound system, and CD's and DVD's covering the walls.

Erik had called this his sanctuary. She could see why. His music was neatly displayed over the piano and in filing cabinets labeled by title. Christine looked over the music that was on the piano and found some of it to be beautiful and haunting and some of it playful and flirtatious, she wondered if it depended on his mood, or if he had been commissioned to write it for certain productions.

The words stood out on the page, reaching to her with a physical pulse that beat in rhythm with hers. She could read the melody in her mind and hear the words as they spoke to her.

_***There's nothing I could say to you..._

_nothing I could ever do, to make you see_

_what you mean to me._

_All the pain, the tears you** cried,_

_and still you never said goodbye..._

_and now I see...what you mean to me._

_I know I let you down, but it's not like that now._

_This time I'll never let you go._

_I will be all that you want, and get myself together;_

_'cause you keep me from falling apart._

_All my life I'll be with you forever,_

_to get you through the day and make everything okay._

The melody was beautiful, the lyrics timely and gut-wrenching. The date at the top of the page suggested he had just written this song in the few days he had known her...could it be that she was the inspiration? The words just spoke to her, telling her that they were from his heart to hers.

_I thought that I had everything;_

_I didn't know what life could bring._

_But now I see, honestly._

_You're the one thing I got right,_

_the only one I let inside._

_Now I can breath, 'cause you're hear with me._

_And if I let you down, I'll turn it all around._

_'Cause I would never let you go._

_I will be all that you want, and get myself together;_

_'cause you keep me from falling apart._

_All my life I'll be with you forever,_

_to get you through the day and make everything okay._

_Without you, I can't breathe._

_I'm not gonna ever, ever let you leave._

_You're all I got; you're all I want....ohhh yeahhhh._

_'Cause without you I don't know what I'd do;_

_I can never, ever live a day without you_

_here with me; do you see you're all I need?_

_I will be all that you want, and get myself together;_

_'cause you keep me from falling apart._

_All my life I'll be with you forever,_

_to get you through the day and make everything okay._

_**_original lyric is "I";

***lyrics to "I Will Be", sung by Leona Lewis, Songwriters: Gottwald, Lukasz; Lavigne, Avril Ramona; Martin, Max

Had he written the song for her? Was it her image he saw when he recited the words? She jealously longed for it to be so. His smile, his laugh, his heart...they belonged to her, and she would never let them go into the keeping of another.

Shocked by the possessiveness she felt toward him, Christine tucked the music back in to a neat pile, effectively wiping the area of any sign of her intrusion. She had said and done some things she wasn't very proud of tonight. Erik had been hurt many times in his life; at least that was what had been told to her. His self-worth – or lack of it – was not his fault, and she knew that; it was just so difficult to hear him degrade himself.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Christine spun around to see Della standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" She asked, the coy smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"No....I'm having trouble sleeping." Della replied honestly.

Gauging Christine's mood to be reserved by the slight lift at the corners of her mouth and the pleading light in her eyes, Della smiled back – making sure her attempt was filled with hope rather then doom. "Erik will be here, he's probably giving you the time you need to think things through without having to deal with him."

"I just want him back."

Della heard the pleading in her voice. It was tragically obvious that her words were two-fold; she wanted Erik back, most assuredly, but she wanted her baby back too.

"I know...but Erik will not crowd you. You asked him to stay away and that is precisely what he will do."

Naturally, that made her feel better.

Yeah right.

"Do you have his cell phone number?" Christine asked, her voice lilting at the end.

Della wrote it down and handed the small paper to her. Christine took it, fighting back the need to cry. Her emotions were out of whack at the moment, but she'd adjust. "Thank you...you've been a better friend to me in the five days I've known you than most of the people I've known all my life."

۞۞۞

Erik didn't answer his phone, and leaving a message seemed so impersonal, but she did it anyway. Just hearing his voice on the recorded message gave her a measure of peace and allowed her to relax for the first time in hours.

She had drawn herself a hot bath, filling the water with the wonderful scent of green tea and melon. So much had happened over the last few days; much of it good, but some of it devastating; her body having taken the brunt of the stress. She rested in the water, allowing its medicinal qualities to envelope her in luxury and tranquility.

Her thoughts strayed once more to the tiny life that she had held for a moment in time. Had it been a boy or a girl? Did God give him or her a name? When her time was up and she got to see her baby in heaven, how old would he/she be and would they recognize her?

Once again the tears fell from her eyes. Until she held Erik in her arms once more, heard his heart beat in his chest and felt his breath upon her neck, she knew she would simply be existing...her life would cease until he was with her.

It was an hour or so later when she jolted awake, having dozed off in the steamy confines of the bathroom. It was mid-morning, but her late night visit to Erik's sanctuary had kept her up until the wee hours of the morning and her body was sore and suffering from the previous days ordeal.

Easing out of the tub and carefully drying off, Christine refused to give into the ghosts of dread that threatened once more to drag her down into the pit of despair. The memory of her lost child would remain with her for the rest of her life; but, Lord willing, she had a great deal of life to look forward to and a man she had given her heart to in less than a day.

The doctor had promised her that this miscarriage would have no bearing on her chances of getting pregnant again and carrying it to full term...she would stand on that assurance and let God be God. The thought of never holding a baby in her arms was almost unbearable.

As she slowly walked out of the bathroom, her cell phone began chirping, signaling Paul's ring tone. She didn't really feel like dealing with anything business oriented, but she knew she had to return to reality soon; board meetings, decision making, marketing; she had to get back at some point.

"Paul. Is everything okay?"

"_Ms. Drummond..."_

That immediately sent up the red flags, he never addressed her so formally unless he was surrounded by the board members or potential clients.

"_...I know you have only been gone for a few days, but I really need you back here. I need your expertise with a contractual issue concerning Mirabel. They refuse to do business with anyone but you."_

Mirabel...Christine had had words with the Vice-President of that company on several occasions. The man was a pompous, arrogant, dimwit who thought the world and all its inhabitants were subject to his demands. She had known instinctively that there was going to issues.

This was something she couldn't take care of from a distance...nor over the phone. "Book me on the next flight to Dallas; have a car there Paul, because I'm only staying long enough to seal this contract. I have things I need to take care of here."

She clicked the phone off, exhaustion forgotten as she gathered a few clothes and put them in her overnight bag. She hoped to be in and out of Dallas before too many people knew she was there, that would require some lethal maneuvering on her part. Paul understood the need for discretion, he wouldn't tell anyone outside of the board that she was even going to be there. Although she resented the interruption, Christine knew how much this contract would mean to her company...especially the bottom line.

After ending the conversation with Paul, her flight itinerary was emailed to her Blackberry in just under twenty minutes. Glancing at her watch, Christine needed to leave immediately to make it to the airport on time for her flight. She knew Della and Francois had taken the kids out for a little fun; they had been cooped up for a few days and they missed their uncle terribly. _So do I_, Christine kept saying to herself. She would get this done and be back soon, hopefully tomorrow, then she would focus on getting Erik.

She called a cab, emphasizing to them that she needed one immediately; threw her bag over her shoulder and was standing at the door when the cab showed up five minutes later. It was strange to her, watching Erik's home fade into the background as the cab moved further down the road. She felt as though she was leaving a piece of herself behind.

She was leaving something behind.

Her heart.

۞۞۞

"Ms. Drummond, it is good to have you back." Frank Tillman, Board Secretary, stated as she walked through the large door. She gave one, curt nod in acknowledgment and sat down in her highback, leather chair at the head of the table.

Looking over the faces of the men and women she had left in charge, Christine felt blessed to be able to do so. They were dedicated and hard-working, loyal and knowledgeable; there were very few things they couldn't handle in her absence, and she appreciated that. However, the one thing they couldn't do was appease a client who insisted on having their way no matter what the circumstances were. In this case, the client was a big one and the money generated by a successful union would be substantial; Christine had to humor them.

"I'm sorry Christine, I did not want to have to bring you back so soon, but I know how much this contract means to you..." Paul whispered beside her, "....how much it would mean to your father."

She flashed him a guarded smile as Timothy Duvall, Vice-President of Mirabel Manufacturers, entered the room and immediately headed in her direction. He was an attractive man, if one went for the perfectly coiffed hair, plastered on smile, and fake tan look. He had approached Christine on a couple of occasions, asking her out to dinner or to some other function and she had been able to avoid any alone time with the man, so far.

Thankfully, it was his father, Lucian Duvall, who made the decisions and signed the paperwork. He shot Timothy a warning glare before seating himself on the other side of Christine. He was all business, and Christine could appreciate that. He listened intently, reading all the papers placed before him, as Christine pitched their offer to him. Nothing had changed, it was the same agreement that Paul had pitched to them earlier in the day.

But with Duvall, it was the principle of the matter. Lucian dealt only with the CEO or President of a company when making investments or getting into bed with another company that was far bigger than his own. Drummond Pharmaceuticals was worldwide, manufacturing drugs for smaller companies all over the world. He would be wise to be get on board while he had the chance, and before he had to pass the torch to his son. Timothy was not the businessman that Lucian was and decisions such as this one were better left to the seasoned pros.

After a couple of hours of serious discussion and elaboration, Lucian signed the agreement, shaking hands with Christine with a satisfied smile on his lips. He turned to discuss something with one of the Board members, giving Timothy an ample opportunity to move in on her. His gaze skidded over her, making her skin crawl, but Christine hid her disgust well – leaving him to believe he was the prince he seemed to believe he was.

Somewhere in the middle of his endless anthology of pick-up lines, Christine excused herself with a waning smile, leaving him no choice but to watch her walk away from him. She had neither the time nor the inclination to listen to him any further and not a shred of guilt for feeling that way.

Passing by Lucian, she shook his hand one more time, firm and confident; letting him know that she was not a woman easily swayed or influenced.

"Your father was a good man, and I enjoyed doing business with him." Lucian stated. "His loss was felt in many places, but you have managed to become everything that he was and more." His broad smile of appreciation for her and the disappointment he showed his son worked in correlation to keep her spirits up, although the foremost thing on her mind was getting back to Erik.

"Thank you Lucian, I appreciate that." She shook his hand one more time, gave Paul an affirming nod, and walked out the door to her waiting car. A quick glance at the watch on her wrist showed it to be 7:30 in the evening. It would be 8:30 before she was able to exit the plane in San Antonio and catch the car back to Erik's. She just prayed he would be open to what she had to say.

The meeting had been both intense and fulfilling from a business point of view. Her involvement had left little time to look at what was going on with the weather; but as soon as she looked out the window, Christine sensed trouble.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18 – Meanwhile, back in San Antonio...late Tuesday into Wednesday....

The night had been unkind, as it always was when one burns the midnight oil well into the fourth hour. After Tony left, Erik had grown weary of his own company and decided to take a walk. The ugly scene in the hospital kept replaying in his mind; unfortunately, no matter how many times it rewound and played again, he still looked and acted the complete fool.

What kind of man acts that way? He had treated Christine like some sort of criminal for sleeping with her own husband and getting pregnant. He laughed at his own stupidity, wondering where he had gotten the idea that he had any right at all to accuse her of anything; or be jealous of this man who had held her heart...and possibly still did.

He had thrown it in her face like some sort of macho idiot, and then he had walked out – just like that. Could he fling himself into the ice cold water of the Guadeloupe River and never surface? Would they only know he was dead when his bulging, bloated carcass floated to the top? What a sight that would be. He could almost see his epitaph:

HERE LIES ERIK.

HE MANAGED TO BE UGLIER IN DEATH THAN HE WAS IN LIFE.

Scoffing at the wry, humorous image that filled his mind, Erik felt like banging his head against the rugged rocks that formed the makeshift wall around him. Maybe if he bashed his brains in they would actually be worth something. Really, what did he have to show for himself? To prove to others that there was more to him than just scarred, crippled flesh and some silly songs? For a brief moment in time, when Christine had allowed him to hold her in his arms, he had felt like he might possibly be worth something...but that moment had been fleeting.

Rounding the corner, the tall structure of the hotel in sight, Erik stopped and took in the night air; feeling its heavy blanket of darkness become a part of him. Man. He was tired. His body felt like it was made of lead, the weight of his own uselessness becoming an anchor around his neck. This was a dangerous road for his thoughts to be trudging down, but he was not inclined to save himself right now.

He leaned on his cane more than usual, his leg aching from the added miles he had asked of it. He found a bench on the outside of the hotel and lowered himself onto it. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see that it was almost 5:30 in the morning. He would be meeting Tony and Thax for tee time at 7:00, and he was functioning on little to no sleep. Wow. This would be an interesting game of golf.

Swiping his hand through his hair, Erik felt the frustration and hopelessness threaten to consume him. He was used to feeling less than adequate around others, but he wasn't used to feeling out of control. Perhaps they should lock him up; or better yet, he could commit himself and save someone else the trouble.

Oddly, it wasn't Christine's image that slashed through this mind when he pictured himself locked away in an institute for the rest of his life. He had hoped it would be her face that prevented him from truly loosing himself within his own darkness; her voice that called him from the brink of the abyss. But it wasn't.

Two tiny, brown-eyed, blond-haired cherubs rescued him. Peyton and Paige...if anyone in this mockery of a life needed him, it was them. They seemed intent on winding themselves around his heart and forcing him to love them despite his efforts otherwise. Tears roared to the surface, unbidden and forceful. When had he grown to love them so much?

He had wasted the last few years with them, pushing them away and hiding behind the mask of his own insecurities. They clung to him; in the beginning it was probably because subconsciously he was their only link to their parents. But now, they barely remembered their parents, except what Erik and Della told them; and yet, they still clung to him.

What waste of humanity he was; he was going to have to face the fact that he had probably destroyed whatever chance, if any, he'd had with Christine; and yes, he would have to live with that regret for the rest of his life. But Peyton and Paige would be with him for some years to come, and he owed them more than he had given them so far.

He would give them what he should have given them years ago. If the only reason that Christine had been sent to him was to thaw his frozen heart and make him open himself to love, than it had been worth it. Truthfully, he wasn't the kind of man a woman would want with her for life; he had known this, but it was human nature to reach for the stars.

And Christine had been his stars. He needed to come back to earth and live the life he had been given. He now knew what a kiss, given freely and openly, felt like; how it shattered his world to hold a willing woman in his arms – well, at least he thought she'd been willing. He'd treasure these things forever; just as he would love her forever.

He stood up as it began to rain and wrapped his coat around himself to stave the chill that had suddenly descended upon him. His heart felt tight with regret but warm with revelation as he moved toward the big doors of the hotel. The clerk at the desk nodded at him; Erik wasn't sure it he was just being friendly or was acknowledging that he was watching him, aware that he was roaming the corridors.

Only seconds after pushing the up button, the elevator dinged and Erik entered; leaning against the walls at it went up. He let his head drop back, resting against the wall, and his eyes drifted shut in thought. He would start attending church again; giving Father Bennett the opportunity to say "I told ya so", as Erik had assured the man he would never set foot in church again.

One should never say NEVER where God is concerned.

Practically sleep walking to his room, Erik managed to open the door and drop his large frame into the comfortable high-back chair the hotel provided, and drift into a deep, satisfying, all-to-short nap.

۞۞۞

The warm beam of the sun creeping its way across his face should have awakened him calmly; alerting him to the beginning of the day. Birds chirping out his window, dancing in the morning dew as it fell unheralded onto the waiting foliage, adding their divinely written song to the chorus of nature; this would have been an alarm clock that Erik would have welcomed.

Unfortunately, nothing so inspiring caused him to bolt upright out of the chair in which he had ungracefully fallen into. The incessant pounding on his door was on the verge of giving him a throbbing headache, having already caused a near heart attack. Erik tried to orient himself before he stumbled his way in the dim light of dawn and threw the door open to find Tony and Thax looking as though they had slept for hours, the light from the lit hallway circling their heads like halos.

"Okay....I'm going to assume that because you are still wearing the clothes you were wearing yesterday that you aren't quite ready to go?"

The only answer Erik could muster for Tony's ridiculous question was a grunt and a dark scowl that was lost in the shadows. He turned from their annoying grins and made his way back into the room, turning on the main light as he went. He was pretty certain he looked like death warmed over; his hair going every direction but where he would want it to go and his clothes rumpled and looking like they'd been slept in, which...of course....they had been.

"Don't even talk to me until I have at least one cup of very dark, very hot coffee." Erik growled, looking around the room for his other shoe, which had mysteriously disappeared in the two hours he had been dozing.

"Are you looking for this?" Thax chirped, holding Erik's shoe up for inspection.

Closing his eyes and casting them upward, Erik prayed he could keep his temper in check today, having had little sleep and his mind occupied with his new found revelations. Ending his silent plea, Erik then looked at this friend, stabbing him with a look of complete disdain.

Grabbing the shoe out of Thax's firm grip, Erik threw himself onto the couch and proceeded to put it on his foot, muttering under this breath. He didn't need this, the constant berating by those who knew him best; knew him as the loser he was. He always felt as though he had to prove himself to them; their handsome faces and masculine builds reducing him to adolescent envy.

He didn't say anything to them as he grabbed his meager belongings, pushed them out the door, and closed it behind him. The ride in the elevator was equally silent, except for Thax's antagonistic whistling. Erik's dark stare did absolutely nothing to turn his friend from his wayward ways, leaving him with the burning desire to bang his head against the elevator walls and cause some serious damage....to his head, not the walls.

Approaching the concierge, Erik bluntly asked if there was any coffee and after paying his bill, silently walked into the dining room to get it. Thax and Tony stood silently by, noticing that Erik's limp seemed very pronounced, and he looked exhausted.

"Hey man, do you even want to do this...you don't look so good?" Tony stated, giving Erik a full body sweep as though he was assessing his medical condition.

The corners of Erik's mouth twitched, but the result was not a humorous smile, but rather a self-mocking smirk. "You've known me how long? And you're just now realizing that I don't look so good?"

Neither Thax nor Tony responded verbally, but instead decided to escort him out the door and to his car. The few people that were out and about watched with interest as the smaller Tony stood to Erik's left and the larger Thax to his right, both men literally dragging him up the parking lot.

"Where's Pepper?" Erik asked, hoping to get some kind of information about Christine.

"She's having a day at the spa with Isis." Tony answered, still dragging Erik along. "And no, neither one of them have heard from Christine."

It irritated Erik that he was so predictable. He despised it when people were able to read his emotions. Usually he was quite adept at keeping them hidden, but in the last five days he had become some sort of emotional roller coaster.

It was humiliating.

"I didn't ask." Erik growled.

"You didn't have to." Thax countered.

Hope beamed in both Thax and Tony's eyes when Erik took his cell phone out. "Hey Mike..." Erik's voice trailed off as he spoke to the man about coming and getting his car. Tony and Thax rolled their eyes, neither of them understanding what kept Erik from doing what he should have done ages ago.

"Why don't you just call her?" Tony chimed in as Erik slipped his phone back into his pocket. "You know you want to."

"Because she asked me to leave, I don't think my barging in on her – verbally or physically – is a good idea." Erik answered, a bit of irritation surfacing in his tone.

Both men just rolled their eyes. It was Tony who decided to voice his opinion, "Do you always follow the rules Erik...any rules...all rules, no matter what?"

"I don't know the rules, Tony....I'm playing blind here." Erik ground out, almost laughing at the irony in that statement. "I'm not very good at this, but my thinking is that my waltzing in and demanding some sort of explanation isn't going to win me any points....but, as I have pointed out, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Tony slapped him on the back, completely unaffected by Erik's sarcasm, "What man does, we're all just fumbling idiots; grossly overrated in many ways, and yet women still want to be with us. We must be doing something right."

Erik narrowed his green gaze, giving his friend a sideways glare, "I beg your pardon, but women do not want to be with me. Christine tolerated me for a time, but you see where that got her."

The tone his voice indicated with determination that he wanted no more of this conversation. The other men wisely said nothing more until they arrived at the country club. Erik beat them into the pro-shop. He quickly and efficiently purchased a pair of golfing pants, a long sleeved "golfing" sweater, and golf shoes. From there, they followed him to his locker where he kept his clubs. By seven fifteen in the morning, Erik and his friends stood on the green fairways of San Antonio's most elite country club.

۞۞۞

It hadn't been his best effort. Erik seemed unable to concentrate fully on his game and ended up taking second place to Tony; who of course had to bask in the sunshine of his victory. Tony was a competitor from way back when and could not make it through a game of anything without making those with him feel inferior. Erik was no exception, except Erik didn't give him the satisfaction of feeling inferior, just temporarily out of sorts.

Normally, Erik was more focused and Tony would have wound up on the losing end, but thoughts of Christine and what he had lost haunted him. For what amounted to a breath, he had held heaven; but a monster such as he wasn't allowed such things. If Christine was half the woman he knew her to be, she was making plans to leave, or had already done so.

It hurt. It really hurt. And the fact that it hurt left Erik gasping, the air having been pulled from his lungs by the thought of never seeing her again. He had given her power over him by resting his scarred heart in her hands; power that he had no hope of getting back.

Tony's sideways glance caught his attention and Erik slid his shamed gaze to his friend. "I say we go back to the hotel and play a game or two of cards." Thax threw him a caustic glare from the backseat. A hard-hitting, no nonsense stare that had him shrugging his shoulder's like a teenager.

"What?" He inquired, wearing an innocent smile as easily as he wore this usual casual smile.

"Can't you see he's distraught over what's happened with Christine?" Thax asked, being the more sensitive of the men.

Tony pulled his eyes from his avoiding the mirror where he knew he'd find Thax spitting fire at him. He had noticed Erik's unusually quiet demeanor, but he knew that his friend was moody and brooding most of the time and had not considered that the situation with Christine was the cause of this particular incident.

"What do you want to do Erik?" Tony asked, hoping to derive some idea from the stoic man beside him. "You name it."

Erik swallowed the bitter self-disappointment that had been lodged in his throat all day, "I want to go home." He finally commented, "I'm sorry Tony, I haven't been the best company today and this has probably been the worst birthday you have ever had, but I just want to go home."

Tony hit the next parking lot and turned around, "Then home it is."

۞۞۞

Tony wasn't upset in the least, his day having been made by winning the game of golf. He seriously wanted to make sure Erik was going to be okay. Few times...no...wait...zero times in the years they had been friends, could Tony remember having to console Erik over the actions of a woman. Tony found this new facet of their friendship fascinating, as Erik had always been the most level headed, grounded, serious minded person Tony had ever known.

Right now, his stiff-necked friend sat with his back to him, staring out the window at the passing scenery although Tony knew he wasn't really seeing any of it. He had no idea what to say; this being a road down which he had never traveled. Just the fact that Erik reacted as he did was a sure sign that the man was head over heals in love with Christine, but had no idea what to do with it.

Traffic was manageable as Tony weaved in an out of it like a madman, finally gaining the arresting gaze of his brooding friend.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Erik asked, his brow stern and his eyes glaring.

"Yes....YES...." Tony flared, beating his hands upon the steering wheel, "...that is my goal!" His astonished, amused face slid easily into one of absolute boredom, "Erik, seriously Dude...you need to lighten up. I fly at speeds you can't even imagine, over terrain that would make even the strongest stomach heave in revolt."

A disbelieving sigh of irritation rumbled in Erik's chest and Tony grinned in response; one of those casual, I-know-something-you-don't, kind of grins that only made Erik's sigh descend into something darker and less amusing. Tony knew better than to rile Erik any more than he already had, so he reluctantly slowed down and the remainder of the trip was suffered in silence.

Thax sat quietly in the backseat, observing the banter between the two stubbornly obstinate men in the front. He carefully managed his smile, making sure neither to them knew he was laughing so hard inside his head he was on the verge of producing tears. It was always entertaining when they got together, but Thax felt that Tony was going all out this time because Erik needed the distraction; friends didn't let friends wallow in self-pity.

"When you get home and this whole mess gets straightened out with Christine, call me." Tony offered as they pulled up to Erik's house. "We can all do dinner."

Erik finally smiled, thanking Tony for being who he was, even though who he was often irritated him beyond reason. Tony smiled back, a secret code of understanding binding them. Tony held his gaze for a moment, "Next time, you come my way, I have designed a little something for you that I think will take you to new heights."

Erik reached for the car door handle, ready to exit, but shook his head and replied, "I can't do the superhero thing, Tony...that's your show."

"It's not superhero stuff, trust me."

Nodding his acceptance, Erik finally exited the car and walked toward the side door of his house. His stomach turned flip-flops at the prospect of seeing Christine again, but he tried to calm his nerves knowing that she may not desire to see him...ever again.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

I hope this chapter finds all of my readers going well and living blessed lives. I love you all.

CHAPTER 19 – Same day...Erik's home...mid-day and on...

He came in to what appeared to be an empty house; no one was about. Silence seemed to fill each crevice and ricochet loudly off each wall; it should have been something Erik was used to after all the years he had spent wallowing in it. However, since Christine had softly wound her velvet rope around his heart, he couldn't stand the idea of solitude; not now that he had tasted what it was like to love another person and allow them to know him. Her voice, her smile, her scent – everything about her had become vital to his well being. What would he do if she had left him without ever knowing what she meant to him?

Taking the stairs two at a time, Erik wasn't even winded when he stood at the door leading to Christine's room. The room stared back at him, the door wide open. None of the usual vitality filled the room as it had when she occupied it. He had hoped beyond hope that she had remained here, eager to mend whatever rip he had torn in their...what? Relationship? Friendship? What exactly were they to each other?

But there was no sign of her. The colors of the room seemed dull now; mourning the loss of her exuberant radiance. Erik struggled to breath, his efforts hitching in his throat as though a rope circled his neck. Where once her few possessions had strategically drawn his attention when he entered her room, now there was only emptiness.

A dull, throbbing ache filled his chest, working its way up to his throat and balling there with intense pressure. Tears had never come easily for him, having seen more tragedy and pain than most people can even imagine; but Erik felt them sting his eyes as he stood there staring at the immense void that surrounded him, mocked him.

The loneliness of his own company engulfed him as he sank dejectedly onto the soft bed. Her scent wafted up to him, constricting his heart like a vice. What cruelty this was; the blessed gift of her presence having graced his life for such a short time. In seven short days, Erik had discovered God again...or rather, God had reached out to him and Erik had finally answered; he had found without a doubt that he loved his niece and nephew as though they were his own flesh and blood; and he had fallen hopelessly in love with Christine Drummond.

Oddly enough, just admitting to himself that he had fallen in love made him feel more human than he had ever felt before. For the first time in his life he felt...something....alive maybe? Vulnerable? He didn't know really, but he felt different. Somehow, it made the pain of losing her seem productive, if that made any sense at all. Something had changed inside him...a change for the better; and he owed it to her.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find love again some day. Even if her feelings for him had not been the same as his for her, she had genuinely cared about him on some level, Erik knew that. If a woman like Christine could feel something for him, it made the odds that another woman was out there for him; a woman who could love him back.

But it would be a long time before Christine was purged from his system; she had pressed her lips to his and claimed his heart with the sensuous touch of her tongue; she had dared to challenge his self-deprecating ways and had baptized him in her passion and warmth, rendering him a new man. Yes, it would be a very long time before he opened himself up to the chance of love; but he prayed he would have the courage to do so when the time came.

Wrapping up what was left of his dignity, Erik painfully breathed her scent in one last time before rising off the bed and leaving the room. He couldn't bring himself to close the door, finality being too much to bear right now. Somehow, with the door still open, he felt there was a chance she was still within his grasp; even though it sounded stupid to him, he desperately held on to the thought.

As if sensing his despondency, Patches the cat wound her slinky body between his legs and regarded him with large, olive-green eyes. He hadn't spent much time with her lately, a crime he wasn't sure she would forgive him for, but by the soft mewling sound she was making and the pleading search of her eyes, it seemed she was willing to try.

He made his way into the living room with her trotting along behind him. She actually beat him to the couch and jumped effortlessly into the very seat where he had intended to sit. He graced her with a humorous glare, one that hardly registered in the cats alert radar, and lowered himself into the seat beside her. She took that invitation and eased into his lap for some long overdue loving.

Just the simple act of petting Patches eased the chaos in his mind, giving him the semblance of peace he had been seeking. She loved him back, without condition or demands, arching her sinewy back to meet his hand before it gently swept over her fur. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods; and to prove it, she stared him in the eye with her nose almost touching his. Her unwavering, guileless gaze had been a bit unnerving when Erik had first taken the beaten and starving cat in several years ago, but he had learned to accept that she could read him like a book. She seemed to empathize with everything that haunted him, and just by sharing the tragic echoes of his past, Erik had quickly lost his heart to the tiny creature.

She had shown up at his doorstep three years ago; someone had pulled her claws out, beaten her horribly, and it appeared she hadn't eaten in some time. Her abused paws were bleeding and infected, threatening her life and Erik had immediately dropped everything he was doing and taken her to the vet. She was his for the rest of her life. He could do no wrong in her eyes, and he felt that there was not a more perfect cat in all the world.

They sat there, the two of them, for at least a half hour; Erik's thoughts on what he was going to do about Peyton and Paige, and Patches purring loudly and obnoxiously in his ear. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call, starting a process that would result in something he should have done long ago. The conversation took all of two minutes with his lawyer, and Erik knew the matter would be taken care of as soon as possible.

"Come on Patches, let's get you some milk." He picked the cat up and carried her to the kitchen where her bowl was located. He poured her a generous helping of milk and then cracked an egg into it, knowing this would make her very happy indeed. He watched her lap the milk up for a few moments, then quietly left the room. His spirit wasn't as down as it had been earlier, but the only thing that was going to allow him to fully exercise his demons was music. Quietly, he made his way toward the conservatory; thanking God that he had an outlet for the darkness that could have so easily controlled him. Music held many facets, all of which he used to mend the torn places in his soul.

It was coming up on late afternoon, the sun shone through the windows leaving a crystallized shimmer on the objects within. It's beauty never failed to take his breath away when he allowed himself the joy of noticing it. Small wonders held true beauty for him; for the formative years of his life, he had seldom been allowed to appreciate or even observe the simple wonders of God's creative genius.

The violin seemed to glisten, resembling an angelic instrument; he had personally designed and built the violin several years ago. He had fashioned it out of white spruce polished with polyurethane for a beautiful shine, the bow strings were made from the tail hairs of a black Friesian horse; rare and stunning. It was a work of art; one of which Erik was particularly proud.

Eerily haunting yet pure and ethereal, the violin's sound was unique, as it was to each instrument; its true sound harvested only at the hand of a master, and Erik was a master. Lovingly lifting the instrument and lodging it beneath his chin, Erik caressed the soft wood with the palm of his hand before lifting the bow. He hadn't played in several months, having abandoned music for a time; but the moment he ran the bow over the strings and the divine sound filled the room, Erik was lost once again.

Song after song flowed from the instrument, each as beautiful and haunting as the last. Tears rolled down Erik's face, his awareness of them almost nonexistent. His heart literally pounded in his chest, the deep drum of it keeping time with the music. Why he had thought he could live without this, Erik had no idea, but he now knew there was no way he could remove music from his life....no way. Christine had given him something to use as a muse, even if it had been fleeting. He could draw upon the experience and become a better man because of it.

Another hour passed before he noticed the door open slightly, Della and the two children standing at the threshold as though awaiting an invitation. He lowered the violin slowly, his eyes never leaving the tiny faces. A powerful swell of love filled his chest as he looked first at Paige and then slid his gaze to Peyton. How beautiful they were; their golden blond hair and brown eyes reminding him so much of Gregori. But oddly – miraculously – the pain that had once accompanied that acknowledgment seemed to have moved on, left him, to be replaced by an intrinsic need to shelter and care for these children; to make them his own.

He went down on one knee, bringing himself to their level and opened his arms wide. Della watched in awe as the faces of the children lit up with glee and they ran to into Erik's outstretched arms. He hugged them to his chest, ruffling Peyton's hair and kissing Paige on the cheek. It was a scene out of a movie that would have gripped the hearts of the audience and left not a dry eye among them. As it was, Della wept silently, the children smiled and laughed openly, and Erik held the kids as though he feared they would disappear on him.

He fell playfully back on the floor, the children sprawled over his upper body. They giggled merrily, enjoying this side of the man they both thought of as a father. Erik tickled them, loving the way their childish laughter lifted the fog from around his heart and somehow made life seem worth the living.

After a few minutes of bonding that had been a long time coming, Erik sat them down in his lap, cradling them in the crook of his arms. They watched him close his eyes in what appeared to be a silent prayer, and then he smiled at them with genuine warmth in his expression. He pulled the eye patch from his face and did not flinch from their earnest gaze, expecting some sort of disgust to distort their perfect features - but finding only open acceptance and love.

"I have given it much consideration lately, and if you kids will have me, I'd love the opportunity to be a real father to you. I have filed the paperwork and started the procedure to adopt you both. How do you feel about that?"

Della had to turn away when she heard those words. Her tears came suddenly and with great force; she didn't want the children to be concerned about her reaction. She had longed for this moment for the better part of three years now; their longing gazes followed him every time he passed and Della knew the depth of their love for him. She also knew that Erik held love in his heart for them, even if he failed to show it. But he had never voiced his desire to adopt them until now.

What an amazing difference one week had made.

"Does that mean that we would be your children?" Peyton asked; hope dancing in his eyes.

"Will you call us your children...**your** Paige and **your** Peyton..." Paige asked at almost the same time as Peyton. "...and we call you Daddy?"

He had already been doing so; if to no one but himself; and to hear her call him Daddy would be the sweetest music to his ears, "Yes, to all of those things, and you will be called Peyton Miklos..." he rustled the boys hair, "...and Paige Miklos." He tweaked her nose. "Would you like that?"

Their answer was a resounding yes and a pouncing hug that sent Erik back down to the floor in a flourish of laughter; his being the loudest.

۞۞۞

"Thank you for not leaving me too." Erik expressed as he sat in the living room watching absolutely nothing on television. Della sat at the other end of the couch, flipping channels.

She gave him a sideways glance, noting the strain that had settled in his features. She had not been able to tell him where Christine had gone and she feared that the young woman had been devastated because of the loss of her child and had not been thinking clearly. Hopefully, she would come around soon.

"You're the only family I have Erik, I would never leave you." Della assured him, "Besides, if it wasn't for you, I'd have never met Francois."

Erik quickly turned his head to her and saw the truth written there is bold letters, "You've finally admitted that you love the man...." he stated, with a healthy dose of smugness, "...it's about time the two of you got together. The cat and mouse game the two of you were playing was exhausting to watch."

Della giggled and swatted him on the leg, "Yeah, right. Anyway, we have admitted our love for each other, and are going to start spending a lot more time together."

He gave her a stern look, full of brotherly concern and mischief, "There will be no funny business under my roof...I won't tolerate it."

Another giggle and she blushed profusely, "You know I won't allow that...we have to be thoroughly wed before he gets that far." She announced, "I've been down that road too many times to have not learned my lesson."

Erik looked shocked for a moment before she explained, "I'm just saying, why should a guy stick around when he's already gotten what he wants? I have given in to too many handsome faces and pleading words that turned into stiff backs and 'good-bye' before the sheets got cold. I'm not going there again."

Okay, Erik wasn't sure he needed to know all of that, and he didn't know what to do now that he did. He knew that every adult over the age of eighteen had more experience than he did, but he sure didn't want it advertised.

"Sorry." Della said, noticing Erik's uneasiness.

Erik shrugged uncomfortably, "It's okay..." he looked away – at a dark spot on the floor, "I didn't realize you had been hurt Della, I'm sorry."

She smiled at his earnest apology, "I'm a big girl, Erik....I made the decisions on my own and learned valuable lessons. I'm okay."

After a time of complete silence, Erik lifted haunted eyes and smiled with an equal amount of sadness, "I wonder if I'll ever see her again."

Della regarded him with a look that scaled somewhere between a questioning frown and perplexing thought. Again, she debated with her inner conscious about telling of Christine's short and tragic pregnancy, but the truth of the matter was, it was Christine's business to tell him if she so desired to do so.

"What have you always done in the past Erik...when you wanted something?" She asked, hoping to point his thoughts in one certain direction.

As if knowing where she was leading him, Erik relaxed his shoulders and dropped his head toward his chest. Although the loudest part of him - the "me-Tarzan-you-Jane" part of him – wanted to go after Christine and drag her back kicking and screaming until she saw that they belonged together; the self-deprecating, hate-my-own-image, part of him just wanted to curl up under a rock and die.

"I know that look, Erik. If you ever want a chance at the happiness you deserve, you've got to ignore the voices from your past...people who weren't worthy of the privilege of knowing you, and realize your own worth."

His furrowed brow was the only indication that he doubted her words, "Seriously Erik, your _are_ attractive, but it really only matters that Christine finds you that way...." a smile curved her lips as she recalled all that Christine had revealed about her passion for Erik, "...and trust me, she does."

Without provocation, Erik drew her into his arms and held her close. They had hugged before, friends often did, but this hug was full of brotherly love. Della felt tears sting her eyes as she relished being close to the man who had held so many positions in her life, but who had ultimately become the brother she never had and a man she admired and cherished.

"I..."

As Erik began his sentence, the door bell rang, cutting his thoughts off. It startled them both, leaving Della grasping at her frantically beating heart and leaving Erik with a dark scowl on his face. He excused himself and headed for the door, only to be intercepted by Francois.

"Go and sit with Della, she almost needed mouth-to-mouth a few minutes ago." Erik lifted one side of his mouth in an ornery smirk, "I am certain she would rather it be you that administers it instead of me."

As he pulled the door open, all he heard was Francois laughing

۞. ۞. ۞.

His first thought upon seeing the young man on at his door, was that he was a salesman of some kind. He wore a cheap knockoff of what was supposed to be a stylish suit, his blond hair was cropped short against his head, his shoes were scuffed and well-worn, his eyes were of in indeterminate color at this point, as the sun had long since faded into the hills – but they were weary...and shifty. One would think he was about to drop from the looks of him.

Erik stared down at him with cautious interest, wondering why he was knocking at his door at 7:30 at night. And not only that, it wasn't a pleasant night; the rain was coming down rather hard and the setting of the sun had left behind a rather cold evening.

"What can I do for you?"

The man narrowed his eyes, a look that Erik knew was supposed to be intimidating. However, to Erik it came across as comical. Pushing past him, the young man entered Erik's house uninvited and began to frantically look around as though something very dear to him had suddenly appeared in Erik's home.

"Excuse me?" Erik's voice was harsh, alerting the intruder to his building anger. The young man regarded him with a menacing stare, his mouth sat in a permanent pinch.

"It can't be true....you?" The tone was rancid and full of hatred, something Erik was certain he had not done anything to deserve...it was his home that was being intruded upon, after all; he should be the one hurling accusations.

Erik crossed his arms over his chest, an action that served to emphasize his rather broad shoulders and toned musculature; he wasn't aware of just how dangerous he appeared at that moment.

"Young man, I have no idea who you are or why you have come into my home..." he ticked his head to the side and produced a slow, snarling smile, "...and if I were you, I'd get out....NOW."

"Where is she? Is she sleeping with you....the little whore!" The words were slung at Erik so viciously that had he been a lesser man, he would have buckled beneath them. However, being the man that he was, they only served to stir the embers of his already burning fury.

Erik took another long look at the man, scanning him from head to toe as though he were an exhibit at a zoo. A cold, calculating smile transformed Erik's features into that of a dark creature of doom. His eyes held an otherworldly glow that had the smaller man backing away from him in fear; it was a trick of the lighting, but affective nonetheless.

"You must be the infamous Raoul...come in search of something you've lost, have you?" Erik was doing his best to keep from wrapping his hands around the young man's neck and squeezing the life out of him, but he wasn't making it very easy. He reeked of alcohol, looked like he'd slept for a week in the same clothes, and there was something off about his eyes. But it was his past treatment of Christine that was going to bring him physical harm if Erik unleashed the darkness within him.

"I have to find her....I...." his words faded away as he sank to the floor in a pitiful heap of humanity. Taking hold of his fury, breathing deeply, and pushing murder from his mind, Erik knelt down beside Raoul, giving him a chance to finish what he had started.

"She is not here." Erik stated, "And from all indications, she has no desire to see you again."

Raoul rubbed his eyes, as though he had awakened from a stupor, and looked at Erik as soberly as he could manage, "She's my wife..." he spewed, "...and I demand to know where she is."

Erik physically yanked the smaller man to his feet, being none-to-gentle about it, and then stood over him, dark and looming. "She's your EX wife, and again, she has made it quite clear to me and to you, I believe, that she has no desire to see you."

Raoul had all he could take and balled his fist up and slung it at Erik.

He missed...terribly...but it was enough of an effort to force a smile upon Erik's face; a smile that would have made a few grown men cry and crawl home to their mama's with their tail's effectively tucked between their legs.

"Another attempt at such a thing would be unwise on your part." Erik growled, his fury once again mounting.

Raoul, not a smart drunk...nor a particularly agile one, charged at Erik head first, hoping to land the larger man on his back. Again, Erik would give him an "E" for effort, but he misjudged the distance and ended up toppling over onto his head and landing face down on the floor.

It was all rather entertaining.

If you asked Erik.

۞۞۞

"I have half a notion to call the police...the man barged into my home uninvited and is obviously drunk or high, or both." Erik stated, hoping Della or Francois would have some sort of advice.

"I agree...." Della said, clasping onto Francois' arm and putting her head on his shoulder. "I don't think he's dangerous, but one can't be too careful about these things."

Erik smirked at her words, "I've seen baby chicks that were more dangerous than him...really...." he looked at the pitiful creature sprawled on the floor, "...I feel a little sorry for him."

Both Della and Francois stared at him with gaping mouths and saucer eyes, so he blessed them with a one-sided grin then assured them, "Trust me, that doesn't negate the fact that I still want to pummel him until he is nothing but a bloody pulp."

"There's the Erik I know and love." Della laughed.

"What are you going to do about him?" Francois inquired, still casting a leery eye at the inebriated man.

Erik once again crossed his arms over his chest, then lifted a hand to rub the stubble that had formed on his chin. Everything he considered doing to the scumbag was illegal, so he assumed he should refrain – no matter how much satisfaction it would bring him.

"I have no idea if Christine is coming back here or not....she has to get her car at some point, but she doesn't need to come back here to do that."

"She's coming back, Erik." Della sounded so certain, but Erik couldn't allow himself to dwell on what he knew could be a false hope.

"So say you, but that doesn't change the fact that he's here to see her, she doesn't want to see him, and the last time she spoke to me she didn't want to see me either. The outlook is rather grim for the chance of reconciliation...from where I stand."

He took out his phone and dialed Tony.

"I have a situation." Erik said as Tony answered.

"_What kind of situation?"_ Tony asked, humor lacing his words. "_Does it require a scantily clad, blond bombshell jumping out of a cake with about five of her best friends and doing lap dances?"_

Erik rolled his eyes and couldn't help but laugh. "No, Tony....although I think I like your situation better than mine."

"_Great! I'll do that for your bachelor party. Now...do tell...don't leave me hanging because the possibilities are endless and my mind is swirling with all sorts of things."_

"Raoul's here."

A long pause preceded Tony's next words. "_And by Raoul you mean the Raoul that hurt Christine...that Raoul?"_

"Do you know any other Raoul?" Erik asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"_What's he doing here?" _

"He's here to see Christine."

"_AHHHH, hence the situation you spoke of earlier. What do you need me to do?"_

"Come and get him, put him in a cheap hotel somewhere until he sobers up...maybe by then Christine will have returned."

"_Will do."_

By the time Tony got there, Erik had managed to prop Raoul up against the wall, although he still sat on the floor. He had threatened to be sick twice and Erik had threatened to throttle him an equal amount of times; and he would have had he not had Della there to keep his violent tendencies in check.

Tony stood beside Erik as they both assessed the young man one more time, neither of them feeling the least bit inclined to help him when he fell into a coughing fit. Neither of them were particularly proud of their lack of concern, nor did they spend a great deal of time chastising themselves; it was what it was.

"I'll do this for you Erik...but I need something in return." Tony stated, his eyes never leaving Raoul's depleted figure.

"Why doesn't that surprise me." Erik countered.

Throwing Erik a narrowed gaze and a forced smile, Tony pulled out his phone and dialed a preset number. After a few moments, he smiled brightly at Erik, a smile that was full of mischief.

"Malcolm, I need the plane brought to me."

Tony paused for some sort of response from the other end of the phone.

"Tonight. Now."

It must not have been an unusual request; there was little resistance.

"San Antonio, Texas." Tony answered.

He pulled out his personal organizer and punched some numbers into it then put it back in his pocket.

"Five." He responded again, then flipped the phone shut.

He stared at Erik and then glared at Raoul.

"I'll get him situated. While I'm doing that, you and the kids get packed for a mini-vacation."

Erik's arms dropped to his side as he prepared to beat his friend senseless.

"Tony?" Erik warned, his voice full of dark humor.

"I mean it Erik, you need to get away for a couple of days, and who better to spend them with than me."

There wasn't even a slight question in his voice. Tony was not going to take "NO" for an answer. The two men were more than evenly matched in wit and intelligence, but Erik towered over Tony by a huge 5 ½ inches. The only thing that saved him from a thorough thrashing was the fact that Erik loved and respected him....most of the time.

"Do not argue with me big guy, or we will have our own situation on our hands."

"Tony?"

"Is that all you can muster up...'Tony'?" The smaller man teased, feeling his life was dangling by a mere thread. "Look, we both know you want to come, the kids will love it, and it's only for a couple of days..." Tony pleaded...in his own way, "...besides, I need to show you my latest toy."

There really was no use arguing. Erik hadn't been to California in years and the children needed a break. There was little he could do here to ease the ache in his heart; Christine's presence seemed to have embedded itself in every room and every molecule. He NEEDED to get away.

"Fine." Erik agreed, reluctantly, "I suppose we're are leaving tonight?"

Tony practically dragged the heaving Raoul out the door. "Of course...." he remarked, looking back at Erik as he literally pushed Raoul into his rental car. "...be ready in two hours."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

I've already thought of the concept for my new story....I haven't begun writing it yet, so posting is a very long way off. Just thought I'd let you know, there is another one brewing.

CHAPTER 20 – Meanwhile, back in Dallas....

It never failed, every time she found herself in a hurry to get somewhere, something ridiculous happened that prevented her plans from being completed. On this foggy, stormy night in Dallas, it was just that....the weather.

An unexpectedly strong storm was dragging relentlessly through the area, grounding the planes and wrecking havoc with every area of commerce and life in general. Christine, normally calm and collected during such forces of nature, was sitting nervously in an airport cafe sipping her third cup of coffee. Her flight had been delayed twice now, and she was certain – by the looks of things – it would be delayed again. Her watch told her that only ten minutes had past since the last time she'd looked it, but she could swear that time had slowed down.

Her only desire was to get back to Erik and get her life straightened out. Nothing would ever be the same since he had answered the door just a week ago. Had it really only been a week? She couldn't believe all that had taken place in that week. She hadn't really thought herself to be one of those women who fell as quickly and completely as she had for Erik, but there was no denying her heart.

Whipping out her cell phone, she took one look and groaned aloud; she had no signal, the storm had completely wiped all communication out– including land phones. Electrical, phone, cable, and just about every other type of line was experiencing difficulties in many areas. She couldn't call him, not that she wanted to say what needed to be said over the phone. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and assure him that she had not meant the things she had said to him in the hospital, she had been distraught with the knowledge of her lost baby and had transferred her fear to him...and he had yet to be told of her loss.

What would it mean to him? Anything? He had never had a chance to adjust to the knowledge, let alone react to it. Perhaps he would be relieved to know that she no longer carried the child of another man...a man she had once shared a life with. Truthfully, Christine hoped and prayed that Erik would be as wounded as she was by the loss. Did Erik want children? How did he really feel about Paige and Peyton? There was so much left open and raw between them; important things that needed addressing. The deep pain reflected in his eyes was one of those things. What had he been through?

Della hadn't really been forthcoming with details about Erik's childhood, or his life in general for the most part. She had spoken of his education and brilliant mind; of his love of music and the arts, but none of those things said anything about what made him the man he was.

Another glance at her watch said a half hour had passed and no one had given an update on the flight. She wished she had her laptop on her, she could at least occupy her mind with some sort of game or do some writing, but she was bored out of her skull just sitting here doing nothing.

And to top it all off, the last cup of coffee was making its way through her and she had to go to the bathroom.....

….again.

۞۞۞

The plane was exceptionally crowded, and once again Christine was thankful she had opted for first class when given the choice. By the time the weather had cleared enough to get the planes airborne, it was 9:00 pm. For those who took the offer, the airline had handed out discount vouchers for the airport hotel, but Christine and a few others had chosen to catch the next flight out; it was only going to Austin and it left at 9:25; it only took a few minutes for Christine to reserve a rental car for the hour it would take to drive the rest of the way to San Antonio.

The remains of the storm last night were displayed for all to see; downed trees and power lines spotted the landscape with almost the same frequency as Texas Longhorn cattle that grazed in the fields along the highway..Weather watchers were pronouncing it a sudden winter storm that had given little notice of its intent.

As soon as Christine was behind the wheel of her rental, she whipped her phone out and dialed Erik's home phone. She wasn't sure which one frustrated her more, the fact that no one answered the home phone, or the fact that Erik's cell phone went directly to voice mail. Venting her exasperation, Christine quickly pulled the car out of the lot and headed down Interstate 35 toward San Antonio.

There was a dull buzzing within her that she had learned long ago not to ignore. She had the feeling that all was not as she wanted it to be right now - that somehow matters had spiraled out of her control. She had hoped that by know, Erik would have called and they could have eased the tension that had arisen between them; but he had not. If Christine was being totally honest with herself, she didn't blame him. Her last request of him had been clear, concise and very curt.

Upfront enough with herself to know that she may have caused a complete turn around in Erik with her ill spoken and venomous words, Christine was determined to tell him everything...and she wanted him to do the same. There could be no more secrets between them, of that she was certain.

The day was just dreary, the storm still persisting in the gray dullness of the sky and the cold stiffness of the air. This winter had been particularly severe for Texas, leaving many people with high gas and energy bills, and Christine couldn't remember a time when she had felt cold that seemed to seep into the very marrow of her bones.

Soreness still lingered in the parts of her body that had been affected by the tender presence of her unborn child; soreness that reminded her how fragile life really was. She had never given much thought to her own mortality as the years had passed, but facing the loss she had two days ago had forced her to examine the things in her life upon which she had placed priority.

She found herself wanting.

She had never considered herself a driven woman; one who had to get to the top of the corporate ladder – no matter the cost. Her father had instilled within her a competitive edge, but even he had kept things in prospective. His little family had always come first – behind God of course. He had been present at every school function Christine could remember and he had always made sure his wife knew he loved her.

It was a legacy Christine wanted to pass on to her family. She was it...the last of the Drummond line and her father's name would die with her, but she could pass his blood and beliefs on to the next generation if she could manage to have children in the future. Children with the most arresting sea-foam colored eyes and dark, wavy hair. A little boy with the tall, toned build and passionate nature of his father and a little girl with his poetic and artistic genius.

She ached for such things; more so now that she had lost something so precious to her.

The hour drive went smoothly considering the dramatic events leading up to it. When she finally pulled into Erik's driveway, she knew immediately that something was not right; it was as though the house itself was feeling the emotional pull of everyone residing within it.

Feeling as though she had aged ten years in two days, Christine slowly made her way to the front door, knowing that Erik would not be there to greet her. Just knowing that his tall, defined frame and handsome, angular face would not scowl at her from the other side of the door as it had the first night she'd arrived, made walking the groomed sidewalk rather depressing.

Della opened the door before Christine could knock and pulled the younger woman into her embrace, eager to make sure she was in good health and had not been permanently scarred by the events of the last 48 hours.

"Oh Christine, I feared the worst..." Della couldn't stop crying, something that was slightly out of character for her, but clung to Christine as though her very life depended on it.

"Erik is gone...he and the children went to California with Tony. He mentioned something about showing Erik his new toy and other cryptic things that I'm sure will have Erik spinning in circles."

Christine felt the tears swell in her eyes and swiftly wiped them away before they had a chance to trickle down her cheek. Determination and sheer will kept her from collapsing at the news that he had left. How could she be upset when it was her very words that had driven him away.?

"I''m not sure he believed you'd come back...after..."

Della didn't finish her thought, as Christine turned from her and fled up the stairs in hot pursuit of something.

"Christine!" Della called out, not knowing what had caused the young woman to dash off in such a way.

"Don't worry Della, I'm going after him." Christine countered as she reached the top of the stairs and turned to look back at her friend.

Della threw her hands up, "Thank you...it's about time someone made a decent decision around here." She made no mention of Raoul and his drunken appearance last night. There would be enough time for that later.

A quick call to Paul, to make sure there was nothing pressing that she was needed for for a few days; a quick internet search for a plane ticket to L.A., and Christine was ready to throw a few clothes in a bag, her deodorant, a few other small items....and she was on her way; anything else she could purchase while she was there.

Della and Francois waited for her at the door, both of them wanting to make the trip to the airport with her. Christine thanked them both for their support, even though they hadn't known her but a week.

A week. The reality of it gave Christine pause. This really was so unlike her. Everything in her life had always been calculated and planned. She went to all the "right" schools, attended all the "right" things, knew all the "right" people; and although she had loved him dearly, Christine had allowed her father to dictate much of her life to her instead of living it for herself. It wasn't that it was such a bad thing...really...but Christine had never known hardship until Raoul had hurt her; she'd never known loss until her parents died in one freak accident and left her to live in the real world for a change.

Where had all that cold, measured structure gotten her? At the fractured end of a failed marriage, that was where. In matters of the heart, Christine was ready to trust pure instinct rather than premeditated, designed blueprints that someone else felt was best for her.

The flight would take a few hours and it would be early morning, like 2:00 in the morning when she got to L.A., so Christine got online and booked a hotel not far from the airport. She would get Tony's cell number and home phone, so she'd call just as soon as she was ready in the morning.

"I'll call you when I'm at the hotel and let you know I'm there." Della nodded at Christine's promise and then handed her a slip of paper. The airport wasn't crowded, but it bustled with life, as they all seemed to do.

"It's Tony's cell number, his address in L.A, and his home number.. Call and let him know you're there and he'll come and get you at the airport, or he'll send Pepper."

Christine gave them both one last hug before making the long walk toward the terminal; once again alone with only her thoughts to keep her company.

The airport security could have been a nightmare had it not been for a few of the employees that remembered her from the night everything had gone horribly wrong. They accompanied her through, vouching for her and letting them know she was a friend of Erik Miklos...everything went fairly smoothly from there. Once she was on the plane, Christine finally relaxed.

Never, in a thousand years, would she have thought she would be chasing a man half way across the nation to tell him she loved him...

...but she was, and it felt perfect.

۞۞۞

Tony's laboratory, for lack of a better word, had always been a place of mystery and fun. The things the man conjured up in his mind often resembled alien technology as Hollywood often depicted it. Robots that seemed to respond to human emotion with emotions of their own; holographic computer screens that would make the U.S. Government envious, and gadgets and doodads of which Tony, and Tony alone, knew the actual worth.

A lifetime of imagination and creativity existed within the four walls of the large, well-equipped building; it was Tony's playground, creative outlet, and sanctuary, and there was never any doubt as to where he was when he suddenly disappeared.

Today was no exception. Pepper had ushered them down to the lab while Tony chattered on and on about everything from the atmospheric pressure and the way it affected the suit to the incredible rush he got when he sped at super-sonic speeds through the horizon and caught the world from an entirely knew prospective.

Erik had never really been envious of Tony, they were from two different worlds. Tony was born into money and prestige where Erik had had to earn every penny he'd made over the years. They'd never been to battle together and their relationship had not endured hardships that had melded them together in adversity, but they shared common genius and understood each other in ways the world had no hope of ever grasping.

Gregori had called them conjoined twins in jest, commenting that they often seemed closer than brothers who had shared the same womb. Erik hadn't added fuel to the fire by reacting, but he did think of Tony as a brother...but Gregori had been his brother also; both of them were older than he and Erik often sought their advise and critique.

"You know what the most awesome thing is?" Tony asked, his eyes full of the same wonder he experienced with the dawn of each new idea that filled his mind.

Erik shook his head, the ability to speak having been temporarily overruled by the genuine awe he felt as he watched the suit to which Tony had been referring all this time, rise up out of the floor like a cyborg soldier ready to do battle.

"I get to be up close and personal when I'm teaching some terrorist scumbag who's boss. I don't have to stand in the bushes or up in the ragged cliffs, I get to experience justice being handed down – by me – while seeing the surprise and shock on their faces." His laugh was almost childlike, "It really is cool!"

It was contagious, this boyish enthusiasm that Tony seemed prone to exhibit when something he'd done or experienced touched him like nothing else ever had.

They circled the suit, each man lost in his own world of creativity and thought. It was a dream, the ridiculous ramblings of college boys with too much time on their hands and no outlet for their genius. Neither of them seemed to notice when Pepper took the children and headed back up the stairs to the main floor. Jarvis, the computerized "butler" of the house, closed and locked the door behind them, securing Tony and Erik behind the reinforced walls and newly installed bullet, fire, and overall disaster proof glass windows of the lab.

If Erik had been anyone other than who he was, the house and all it's amenities would have been overwhelming, but he'd been there when Tony had designed this house; he'd even helped him tweak a few of the problem areas.

Still, it was impressive to see it all work together when it had previously been only a set of blueprints.

"Yes, I can see how that would be appealing. I tend to like things to be up close and personal. That would be why I prefer the art of sword play over wielding a gun and hand to hand combat over computerized warfare." Erik responded, still observing the suit.

"Men like us would be out of business if there wasn't such a thing as computerized warfare."

Erik nodded his head in agreement, "True. I didn't say it didn't have its uses, I just prefer a more hands-on approach."

The next few hours were spent coursing through the different ideas they had shared in college and how many of them they had put to paper and actually created. Erik wasn't really much of an inventor, but he had always had a knack for picturing something in his mind and knowing exactly how it would look and how it would work – he would then work up the design on paper...or the computer. Tony picked up from there and would break the design down, determine what was needed, and proceed to create it...no matter the time or cost involved.

"You want to go flying with me?" Tony asked, fire burning in his eyes.

Erik scoffed, "Are you insane? I'm blind you nutcase, they won't give me a pilot's license for obvious reasons and you want me to don an 'iron' suit and fly over a thriving city?"

"I told you I compensated for your blind eye." Tony stated, "Trust me."

Erik couldn't deny that the idea was appealing. He'd dreamed of flying - as in him being the pilot - for years, but they'd frankly informed him it would never be. His eyesight just wasn't good enough.

"Just a short flight. Come on Erik, let me give you this." Tony was almost pleading.

Relenting with a flutter of anticipation in his stomach, Erik donned the suit.

* * *

"Man, the blue looks awesome!" Tony exclaimed, after explaining all the functions and controls to Erik.

"This means a lot to me, Tony. You know that...but don't think I wont continue to see your true nature." Erik teased.

"I would never ask that of you, my man. I'd miss your frank name calling and advice too much."

Erik's laughter was heard loud and clear through the sound system of the suit. They understood each other so well...scary well at times...but well nonetheless.

They both fired up the suits, Erik having passed his exam with flying colors. Tony tentatively led the way as Erik adjusted to the controls in a more precise pattern than he had during his testing. After a few minutes, he had bested it all and was eager to put his knowledge to the test.

And what a test it was.

Flying in an airplane as a passenger had nothing on this. Erik was free. Free to soar at heights beyond his wildest imagination. Free to control his own movements while being miles above the earth. Free to let the daredevil that had always been dormant within him out for a heyday...at last.

What beauty there was in the world! Beauty he'd always taken for granted and had never stopped to be thankful for. They flew over the entire state of California, ventured toward Hawaii and even up toward Washington state. By the time they had flown hundred's of miles, Erik was alive with excitement. They came back to the house and made a rough, but safe landing back in the lab.

After ridding himself of the suit, Erik graced his friend with a wide, exuberant smile, "I see why you do it...I really do."

"Thanks, Man...I knew you'd understand as soon as you got a taste of it. The suit is yours anytime you want it."

"That is perhaps the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Erik teased, but he was already wondering when he could do it again.

۞۞۞

When morning rolled around, Pepper took the children on a beach-side breakfast picnic and then visited a beach-side carnival that happened to be around. Paige and Peyton had never been to California in their young lives, and Pepper seldom got the chance to play mother to anyone but Tony...and he annoyed her far more than any child ever could!

"So...are you kids excited about being adopted by Erik?"

Pepper had shed more than a few tears when he had told them of his plans...it was a special thing to take on the duties and responsibilities of single parenthood, especially when the children weren't biologically yours. It just made Erik that much more attractive in her eyes...not that he needed any help in that area.

They both nodded their heads in excited unison, smiles covering their upturned faces and laughter boiling forth from them.

"He's been Daddy all this time anyway...now it will be for real." Peyton remarked joyfully.

Paige lay on her stomach, resting on the beach with her head perched in her hands, elbows firmly planted on the ground. She suddenly sat up, her little brow furrowing in thought.

"We just wish Christine would come back."

"Yeah...we don't know where she went." Peyton echoed his sisters concerns.

"He was so happy when she was around...he smiled and laughed and I think we could have gotten him to sing again....we love it when he sings." Paige looked to be on the verge of tears and that would have been the end of all reason for Pepper. The thought of a child crying tore her up.

"She just left?" Pepper asked, wanting to find out as much as she could.

Their little blond heads both shook in agreement and she noted the sad glimmer in their eyes. These little ones had come to care for the young woman in a very real way...in a short period of time. There had to be some explanation. She didn't really know Christine, but what she had deduced about her did not seem to coincide with just disappearing as the children seemed to think she had.

Deciding to forgo anymore talk of Christine, Pepper played a few rounds of kick ball with the kids before she heard Tony's cell phone ringing. He never carried the darn thing except when he was out on some sales rampage; most of the time, she was left to answer his calls and arrange his schedule.

_I am his personal assistant. _Pepper had to laugh at herself as she slid the phone open, she didn't recognize the number, so her tone was very business-like.

"Christine...is that you?"

_Yes, I'm sorry to just barge in on you like this, but I understand that Erik is here with the children._

"Yes, he arrived last night and the two of them were locked in the laboratory until the wee hours of the morning talking about who knows what. Where are you?"

_I'm at the Crown Plaza, I spent the night here so that I could get a fresh start this morning and get a chance to spend some time with Erik...alone time that I desperately need with him._

"Tell you what, I'll put the children in the car and we'll come and get you. Erik and Tony are probably still in the lab...it's what they do."

The phone beeped, "Christine, Tony's calling...we'll be there in a little while..." Pepper hung up from Christine and answered Tony, "Yes..."

_Where are you Pepper...I need you here?_

"You're a grown man, you should be able to function without me for half a day."

_Maybe, but I have you...why would I want to do that?_

Heavens but he was the most annoyingly charming man she'd ever met; he made her crazy and yet he was the best friend she'd ever had...it was really quite dizzying.

"Okay Tony, but I have an errand I have to run first...me and the children will be back later – after lunch...can you handle it for that short amount of time?"

_Lunch?_ Came the echoed response from the other end of the phone.

"Order a pizza, Tony...that's what you'd have me do anyway, and I think you can handle it."

If she could have seen the pout on his face she would have probably beat him profusely about the face and neck...until he turned a lovely combination of black and blue; as it was, all she could do was roll her eyes at his antics and slide the phone shut, officially disconnecting herself from his world.

The children looked bewildered but hopeful as she turned toward them.

"Let's go get Christine, shall we?"

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21 – Friday

"Can you believe that?" Tony asked, his face fixed in a comical state of disbelief. "She has abandoned me to my own devices....she knows I can hardly function without her."

Erik didn't say a word, but the expression on his face said it all. Tony denied feeling anything but gratitude and thankfulness toward Pepper and yet, there was no way he could exist on his own if she were to suddenly disappear from her life. She had threatened, on several occasions, and Tony flat refused to let her walk out the door.

"You are a grown man, and she is not your wife...so why are you whining?" Erik asked, rummaging through the cabinets for something to take the edge off the hunger pangs that threatened to eat the inner layer of his stomach.

"I know that, but...." Tony stuttered, "...I just thought...." Erik crossed his arms over his chest and stopped what he was doing to decipher what it was, exactly, that Tony was trying to say, "...I mean..."

"Tony, what is Pepper to you...exactly?" Erik asked, trying to figure out the strange relationship the two shared, and had shared, for years now.

Tony shrugged his shoulders, hoping he was coming across as ambivalent, "She's my assistant..."

Erik nodded once and asked, "And..."

"...my friend..."

"Okay...what else?" Erik smirked, knowing this whole conversation was making Tony very uncomfortable.

"Okay...what's your point, Miklos?" Tony wasn't really perturbed, but he didn't like talking about his emotions, especially where Pepper was concerned.

"I'm just curious, that's all. I know you two have some sort of 'arrangement' that I don't fully comprehend, but she seems very reluctant to carry it any further than its present state of employer/employee."

Tony gave Erik a rather piercing stab with his eyes, but quickly reduced the amount of venom he was spewing at his best friend; after all, Erik had never been one to avoid the tough issues...he wanted to tackle them head on.

"I'm not in love with her....I just can't imagine my life without her." Tony confessed, "She's free to date anyone she chooses...." he slanted a skeptic look Erik's way, "...why...are you interested?"

The look Tony got back was enough to make him throw his hands up in the defensive position. "Fine...I was just wondering. She is an attractive woman."

"Yes." Erik agreed. "I'm aware of that."

"Saving yourself for a certain Latina are you?" Tony jested, making Erik drop him a hooded glare.

"Drop it, Tony." Erik growled, his eyes dark with warning.

"Have I touched upon a sore spot?" Tony asked, amused.

"Now who has the death wish?" Erik growled, lifting a brow and slowly moving toward Tony.

Not in the least intimidated, Tony shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just saying."

"Well...don't." Came the heated response as Erik came to stand directly in front of his friend.

Tony chuckled and clapped Erik on the back, "Consider it dropped."

The remainder of the morning passed cordially, Erik scrambled some eggs and Tony managed to rummage up a bowl of cereal. Neither of them were particularly adept at preparing anything in the kitchen, but they managed to make it edible. They had managed to move into the living room and sit in silence for a while; it was all very civilized, but Tony could bare it no longer.

"So, are you going to do it?" Tony finally asked.

Erik scowled at him and then lifted a brow, "Do what?"

"Ask Pepper out, of course....what else would I be talking about?"

Erik's incredulous look only served to make Tony laugh, which increased Erik's irritation level. He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes toward the heavens for support.

"Tony, why is it that we closed this subject an hour or so ago, and you insist upon bringing it up again? I was enjoying my breakfast, minding my own business and you had to go and ruin it."

The tone was controlled, but Tony sensed he had hit a sour note where Erik was concerned.

"I don't look at Pepper that way and she isn't the slightest bit interested in me."

"I say she is." Tony countered. "The only reason I can think of that you wouldn't ask her out is if your heart is already taken."

It was obvious that Tony had already deduced the truth about Christine and the way Erik felt about her. Who was he fooling anyway? No one. That's who.

"It's true, Tony. I'm in love with her." Erik admitted, knowing that Tony had already figured that out.

"Then go after her." Tony stated with conviction in his tone.

"Who's he going after?"

Both men turned toward the voice that came from behind them. Without missing a beat, Erik came to his feet in utter shock.

"Christine."

Her name on his lips released the floodgate of emotions that had threatened to pull her under. Immediately, hot, stinging tears filled her eyes and she propelled herself toward him, lunging into his waiting arms. Clinging to him for dear life, she poured all of her devastation and fears into him, her lips skating the pulse at the base of his neck....seeking assurance that he was indeed real and not some knight in shining armor that she had conjured up in her wild mind.

Her weeping rendered him completely powerless against whatever pain was plaguing her. He held her tight against him, yet there was gentle urgency in the hands that splayed across her back. Whatever or whoever had done this to her would pay, this he vowed to God and anyone else who could read his thoughts.

"Christine...Love...please tell me your not crying because of me?" He gently prodded, fearing the worst.

This wasn't like her, he reasoned, she was strong and willful; resilient and sometimes downright obstinate; but he had never seen her break down like this. He had a distinct feeling is was a reaction she was as unfamiliar with as he was.

For several long, agonizing moments, all she did was cling to him; her body wracked with quiet, bone-chilling sobs that drilled into him like weapons of mass destruction. Had he done this somehow? Was he the source of her pain? If so, could she ever forgive him? Something cold and eerie crept up the back of his neck at the thought of that. Hurting her, in any way, had never been his intent.

She finally pulled back and tilted her head back to grant him a vision of her puffed, swollen eyes and runny nose. She knew she looked a fright, but she hadn't cared. Didn't care. All she wanted was Erik.

"I thought I'd lost you..." she finally confessed, "...I couldn't bare it if I lost you too."

Her words were cryptic and arcane, leaving Erik wondering what was going on. He took her hand and led her to the modern, spacious couch that Tony loved so much, the other occupants of the room having made themselves scarce. Erik was thankful for the alone time, but wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not.

She crawled into him, practically filling his lap, and curled up against him as though needing him to supply her every breath. They sat there, simply needing the closeness of each other for a good five minutes before Erik again broke the silence.

"Love...tell me what's wrong. Have I done something to hurt you?"

He softly placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her doleful eyes to his, scanning her features for any idea of what secrets she held that would scar him even more than he already was. He could barely handle it, the quiet pain that emulated from her. What had happened the two days that had passed?

Christine saw the doubt and fear mirrored in his eyes that was certainly present in her own. She was running on pure, unadulterated emotion here; she had no idea if what she was doing made any sense to Erik, or even herself for that matter.

"Why did you leave?" Erik finally asked, fearing the worst from her.

Her small, pained chuckle did little to settle his unease. "You didn't come that night, the night we fought...and then I got a call from Paul..." she felt Erik stiffen at the man's name, "...he's my second in command at Drummond Pharmaceuticals, he needed me to come to Dallas for a meeting with one of our long-time clients, and I had to go.

"I had every intention of coming back to San Antonio as soon as the meeting was over, but the weather got severe and I was stranded at the airport overnight." She watched Erik's features closely, worried that he wouldn't believe her, but he was listening intently. "I got the earliest flight out, which only went to Austin, I rented a car in Austin and drove home from there...only to find that you were gone."

Erik didn't miss it, she'd called his home hers...and it sounded and felt so right.

"I hadn't been to California in a long time, and the children have never been here, so when Tony asked if I'd like to bring the kids and stay with him a few days, I did." Erik dropped his gaze, knowing that the events could have been avoided if he'd only contacted her like Tony and Thax had wanted him to in the first place. "You had told me to leave...so I thought you either didn't want me around at all anymore, or you needed time, and I was determined to give it to you."

Christine finally smiled at that, lifting the weariness from her eyes and warming Erik's heart. "I was such a fool to say those things to you...I was scared and hurting..." her heart wrenched again, the agonizing memory of her lost child gripping her once more.

Erik stopped her, not wanting her to blame herself in any way, "It's my fault, Love, not yours. I came in there demanding things of you that no one in my position had a right to ask, accusing you in my own way...." he paused, sketching her a warm, inviting, downright sexy smile, "...if you will still have me in your life, I will love this baby as much as I love Paige and Peyton. I will want her in my life. No matter what you choose to do about us, I will be there...for you....for her....no matter what."

Tears welled again, and Erik's breath hitched in his throat...what had he said that started her crying again? Perhaps it was just her hormones.

"Erik...." she sofly cried, "...I lost the baby."

۞۞۞

Those words tore through him, rending his heart apart as surely as if a knife had sliced it clean in two. He'd never actually felt tremors before, but they filled him, thoroughly; making him want to heave the contents of his stomach. He now knew why she'd been afraid of losing him...her loss had already been astronomical.

"Christine..." his voice wavered, cracking beneath the weight that seemed lodged in his throat, "...I'm so sorry."

He felt them then, the wet sting of tears. His tears had always been reserved for Gregori and Tess. He'd left them there, at the cold, harsh stones that marked their graves. Now, he had allowed this tiny wisp of a woman to affect him so, bringing to the surface emotions and feelings he had long since written off.

His words had opened new wounds for Christine and she wept again; realizing that Erik would have been there for her in the absence of the biological father....he'd probably never know how much that meant to her.

"I wanted that baby so bad." Her voice was small and tired, filled with more pain than Erik could bear.

All he could do was nod, the tears keeping his voice at bay. He held her then, never wanting to let her go. Despite the circumstances, her being in his arms felt so right. He nuzzled her hair, the soft touch of his lips lulling her into a peaceful, tranquil nap. He wanted to slay her dragons and keep the cruel world away from her, but Erik knew he couldn't fence her in, no matter how badly he wanted to. She'd come back, the beautiful, spirited woman he'd fallen so deeply in love with; she'd come back stronger and more determined than ever.

He just hoped she wanted him her life when she did.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

We are drawing to an end on this story...not sure exactly how many chapters are left, but it's not many. This chapter is the beginning of the end.

CHAPTER 22 – Three hours later...

Erik and Christine awoke to the sound of children running about, making more noise than should have been allowed...on planet earth. Apparently, Pepper had gifted them with with a whistle each...annoying little things...and Peyton and Paige were both having a blast blowing said whistles at every opportunity they could find.

As luck would have it – or divine intervention, as it very well could be – the opportune time happened to be right at that moment, next to Erik and Christine's ears. The first blow almost caused Erik to jump out of his skin, but he quickly recovered when he caught Tony and Pepper staring at them.

"So you finally slept with a woman." Tony remarked, humor flirting in his eyes and lacing his words.

Erik growled and shifted, awakening Christine. "Shut up, Tony, before I have to kill you."

Tony just grinned, making Erik wish he'd brought his sword or a knife, or even a rope...he didn't care which one, they'd all bring about the necessary results.

"How long have we been asleep?" Christine asked, stretching and standing to her feet.

"About three hours...give or take." Pepper answered.

Christine turned her eyes to Erik and smiled broadly, hardly believing that he was there, by her side, like she had always wanted him to be....she actually felt giddy inside at the idea of having some time with him by themselves. Pepper had already volunteered to keep the children occupied until Erik and Christine had some time to get things sorted out.

"I just realized how hungry I am." Christine confessed, her stomach making itself heard and growling loudly.

Erik basked in the warmth of her smile for a few minutes, returning it with all the love the he felt for her shining forth in his eyes. When she mentioned her hunger, he looked out at the sun and marveled at the beauty.

"Let me take a quick shower and I'll take you to dinner." Erik offered, bringing himself to a standing position beside her. He turned his teasing eyes to Tony, "Why don't you find us a nice romantic restaurant on the beach."

Tony, being who he was, had to put his own unique spin on Erik's words, "Okay, but I think you'd have better luck at romance if Christine went with you instead of me, you're not really my type....but if you insist..."

All Erik could do was laugh and shake his head. Tony would always and forever be Tony...on that he could rely.

Erik headed toward the closest bathroom, addressing Tony as he went, "I'm taking a shower....just do it Tony...and if you insist on going along, I'll strap you to the hood of the car."

Tony mimicked him, and Erik just happened to glance up just before closing the door, catching Tony in the act, "I saw that." Erik responded before closing the door.

Scanning the room with innocent eyes, Tony asked the ladies, "Saw what...what did he see?"

They both responded in like manner, shaking their heads and mumbling about the idiocy of certain people; none of which Tony took to heart. He left them there, considering their wayward words, and went to do what Erik had asked of him.

Christine took the time that Erik was in the shower to freshen up herself. She had taken a shower that morning, but her hair needed revamping and she just needed a general pick-me-up. She couldn't seem to wipe the coy smile from her face...the one that had been there ever since she'd been back in Erik's presence.

If the past couple of days had accomplished anything positive, it was that Christine was now convinced, more than ever, that Erik was the man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.. With that knowledge foremost in her mind, Christine contemplated what action to take next. She could tell by his reactions, although he tried desperately to hide them, that he still felt he was unlovable as a virile and vibrant man. Christine's coy smile turned wanton as she thought about the fun she would have making him believe he was most desirable in every way!

The object of her desire was busy going over the last few hours in his mind. He could not stop thanking God for Christine showing up in California. He knew that he would have never been able to bring himself to approach her...even if he had been able to find her. She had proven to him, over and over again, that she lacked no courage and was determined and strong minded. The fact that she had shattered in his arms earlier, over the loss of her baby, humbled Erik more than anything ever had. She trusted him with her vulnerability...that meant a great deal to him.

Stepping out of the shower, Erik proceeded to shave, hoping he would look good enough to be seen with Christine in whatever restaurant Tony decided to make reservations. Although it was the middle of winter, the weather was very mild and Erik had only carried a couple changes of clothes with him. He decided on a pair of black dress jeans, a white dress shirt, and a blue cardigan; it wasn't the dressiest thing he owned, but it would have to do.

He formed the eye patch to his eye and took one last scrutinizing glance at himself before presenting the final look to Christine; just knowing she was out there waiting on him made his whole body alert. He took a deep, calming breath and walked out into the main room.

She wasn't there...how typical. He chuckled when he realized just how tightly wound he was. He couldn't see her, but it didn't take long for her tantalizing laugh to reach his ears. He followed the soft hum of it to the kitchen where Pepper was preparing dinner for Peyton and Paige. Upon seeing Erik enter the large area, the children ran to him, wrapping themselves around his waist with great affection.

Erik sank to a squat and held them to him, relishing the fact that they loved him and weren't ashamed to show it. Christine watched them engulf him and couldn't help noticing that something had happened while she'd been gone; something that had made the children closer to Erik. It only took another moment for her to realize that the reason behind it was Erik himself. He seemed genuine with the children now...more open. He was actually acting like a father to them...and Christine couldn't remember a time when he'd been any sexier than he was at that moment.

He caught her eye while she was busy admiring his sexiness, smiled and winked at her. Christine felt the color rise in her cheeks and knew she looked the part of the besotted school girl blushing over her first crush...it was absolutely humiliating; but Christine didn't care. She'd made some decisions while traveling here and had reiterated them to herself while Erik had been showering and getting ready, decisions she was anxious to share with him.

When he stood up to greet her, Christine almost felt her jaw drop to the floor; he looked fantastic! He had looked positively scrumptious the first night she'd seen him, all decked out in a tuxedo and looking every bit the refined gentleman. But now...yummy!...he was looking beyond scrumptious. The eye patch added a flair of danger – which always made her heart skip a beat – and on top of that, he'd left a neatly trimmed shadow of scruff on his chin and cheeks that made her knees turn to jello.

Oh yeah, tonight was the night...everything was going to change; either for the better or not, but they were going to change. It didn't take a genius to know that she had hurt Erik with her behavior of a couple of days ago, he was just too much of a gentleman to mention it. That he was not confident in his ability to win her heart was quite evident in his eyes, although he wasn't aware of how much she could read of his emotions in those stunning green depths of his.

Tonight, she would woo him, make him understand what he meant to her, and then wait for his reaction. It may have only been a little over a week since they had met, but her soul had known him for an eternity.

Erik was equally stunned by the woman making her way toward him. How could it be that she was here....with him...right now? She was too good for him, he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to release her. The two days that they had spent apart had nearly cost him his sanity and had all but destroyed his heart; he knew he could never voluntarily give her up. He prayed he never had to.

"You take my breath away." He murmured into her ear, sweeping a kiss at her cheek and inhaling her scent.

"The same could be said for you." She said, smiling up at him. "You have no idea how attractive you are...and that makes you even more attractive."

Erik lightly scoffed at her words, "Your eyesight must be off....but okay."

He placed his hand to the curve of her back and ushered her toward the door, Tony had texted him the information he needed for their date, and Erik was anxious to get started. The limo was waiting at the front door when they exited and Erik motioned the driver away and opened the door for Christine. As she slipped into the seat, Erik's gaze roved over the beautiful shape of her legs, curvy and well-proportioned. He would never tire of looking at her. He couldn't help the erotic images that jumped into his mind at the sudden thundering of desire that spread through him. His body reacted quickly and brazenly, leaving Erik feeling a flare of shame at being so out of control...what was he, a school boy?

_I'm not much better than one...I have no experience in wooing a woman, even less in sex..._ Erik snickered to himself, _...I truly am a novelty. I should be put up on someone's mantel somewhere and kept for posterity._

He shook his head a couple of times, shaking off the effects of his attraction to her, it wouldn't do for him to be in an obvious state of arousal in broad daylight sitting right next to her. Erik was pretty certain she wouldn't find that the time he made it to the other side of the car and lowered himself into the seat beside her, he was – for the most part – back in control.

Christine gave him no reprieve, curling into him like a contented cat; in fact, she was practically purring in his ear. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and softly moved several strands of ebony hair from her forehead. His fingertips brushed sensuously over her brow, sparking embers of desire through her. He had no idea of he effect he had on her, his innocent touch fanning her passion with the learned feel of a man with years of experience.

It was past time for her to awaken him, let him know that he owned her – heart and body. The fear he had been harboring within him since their debacle at the hospital was easy to read in the tension behind his warm, green eyes and the weariness in his shoulders. She wished with all her heart that she could erase the events of the past two days....events that had scarred him again. She wanted him to have nothing but happiness in his life from this point on; even knowing it was impossible to accomplish, Christine nonetheless prayed for it.

Feeling a sudden need to kiss him until he was mindless with desire, Christine settled for what she hoped was a hungry smile.

"I'm sorry for leaving like I did...it couldn't be avoided." She said, leaning against his strong chest for support. "Paul called and needed my help to close a deal my father had been working on for the last several months of his life...I felt I needed to be there."

Erik looked away from her, his next words causing pain he didn't quite understand as yet, "You don't owe me any sort of explanation, Love. We've made no promises to each other, and I don't have any right to expect anything from you."

She smiled, in spite of the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She could hear the dismay in his voice, although he was doing his best to disguise it, and the frank honesty in his eyes almost ripped her heart out.

"Are you opposed to making promises?" Christine asked, hoping he didn't clam up like most men did at the thought of commitment.

He regarded her skeptically, not knowing what she was leading into with her question. "Is this hypothetically speaking, or do you want an honest answer?"

Her sexy smile did nothing to answer his question, nor did the sudden touch of her lips to his. She didn't care that the limo driver had first rate seats to a make out session, should it turn in to that, but she didn't care; he was being paid to be discreet.

Lord, she needed this. Needed this man. Like this. Right here. Right now. Nothing had ever felt as good as having Erik wrap his arms around her and feed off her kisses as though his very life depended on it. He worshiped her, softly playing her tongue with his; mimicking with his deep sensual thrusts into her mouth the very act she had dreamed about every night since finding herself at this man's door..

He made her want to forget everything she had ever been taught, throw caution to the wind and invite his body into hers without hesitation. Somewhere, at some point in time, he had learned to kiss, and kiss well; she longed to taste him on her tongue – everything about him: the soft, masculine scent that was uniquely him, his spent passion as it clung to his skin after she'd had her wicked way with him – all of him. The very thought of such things had her practically panting in his arms.

After thoroughly kissing her until she was certain her toes were curling, Erik played her bottom lip gently between his teeth, releasing it with a sweep of his talented tongue. His eyes opened slowly, awareness returning to him.

"Wow....there's something different in your kiss tonight, Love. What's going through that beautiful, talented mind of yours?" He asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Christine could hear the desire racing through him in his voice; the deep, husky sound of it resonating off every corpuscle in her body and bringing her awareness of him to all new heights. It seemed her mind and body wanted to keep going down a certain path...but if all things went as planned, it would happen soon enough....

….well, maybe not soon enough for her, but soon.

Feeling empowered and flirtatious, Christine pressed her tingling breasts against his chest; they still felt sensitive from the passion he had flamed within her with his glorious mouth; a mouth that did strange things to her with just a smile. She fanned her fingers thought the soft, downy hair at the nape of his neck and gently eased his ear down to her mouth, whispering her tongue over the outer edge of his ear and purring softly, Christine relished the power she had over this magnificent man.

"You'll know soon enough." She whispered softly, moving away from him with a siren's smile.

Her cryptic answer did nothing to remove the suspicious twinkle in his eyes, but Erik accepted it and pulled her closer to him. Their kiss had only succeeded in making his state of arousal that much more unbearable, but he would just have to learn to live with it.

۞۞۞

The evening had actually gone smoothly, considering Erik had no idea what he was doing. Tony had been kind enough – or obsessive enough – whichever – to text the plans he had made to Erik. During the course of the evening, at strategic moments, Erik had checked the agenda to see what was next on the events calendar.

The evening was winding down after a fantastic dinner where there were celebrities galore just chatting with each other like normal people; a movie premier that Tony had been exclusively invited to after he had revealed his heroic alter ego to the nation. Christine wasn't really the type to be star-struck, but even she had begun to feel like her head was in the clouds. Erik had seemed oddly unaffected by the star power surrounding him and focused on Christine and the fact that she was with him, willingly, in public.

The final phase had actually been Erik's idea, not wanting to return to Tony's spacious, intimidating bungalow and share her with anyone. He had remembered how much Christine loved to dance and had asked the limo driver to take them to a ritzy place. They were perfect together, although Erik's damaged thigh tended to keep him from dancing for extended periods, they managed to perfectly dance the Samba, the Argentine Tango, and the Waltz throughout the course of the evening. Erik couldn't remember a time when he had felt so alive. The dances were erotic in their own right, but the ambiance just added to the seductive air making him painfully aware of the erection he'd been fighting all evening.

Now, they sat in a secluded corner of the nightclub, graced with quiet, blanketed lighting that added to the romance already racing through their systems. It was a setting meant for seduction and one that Christine was not about to waste.

Erik was having a hard time focusing on anything after he noticed during one of their dances that Christine had a tattoo on the small of her back. A stunning array of purple and blue that appeared at first sight to be a butterfly, but Erik noticed a fairy-like creature was the body. There was an elegant splay of flowers extending out on each side reaching for her ribcage. Upon noticing it, a bolt of lightening had penetrated his body, shooting his libido into overdrive.

He couldn't get the thing out of his mind! He'd never even considered tattoos before, never having known anyone personally that had one. But the image of her in front of him on all fours, his tongue tracing the intricate lines, and him sliding in an out of her was so vivid that he almost had to put on sunglasses.

Valiantly trying to save his dignity, Erik changed the subject while keeping the images in his mind caged as best he could.

"I noticed you have a tattoo." He asked, grinding his teeth together as he realized his wretched tongue had betrayed him and had stayed on the very subject he'd purposefully been trying to avoid.

Her smile said it all; the tattoo had personal meaning to her.

"I got it soon after my parents died. Mom loved butterflies and fairies and Dad loved purple and blue; I combined them and designed the tattoo. Do you like it?"

Was she kidding? If she were to touch him in a certain area right now, she'd likely get shocked from the voltage of desire pulsing through him.

"It's beautiful." He murmured into her ear, sending chills skirting up her spine. Feeling the wash of power again, Christine leaned into him, her back against his chest, and rested her head on his shoulder. The strength coming from him felt massive against her back – a strength she seemed to wield some sort of control over.

Erik trailed his lips along the hallow of her neck, "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He softly growled.

Christine could hear the need in his voice – thick and sonorous – as it pushed its way through her body, settling at the juncture of her thighs, where a torturous, sweet pressure began to form only he could relieve.

She smiled shyly, though he knew she was aware of her power over him. "I think I have some idea."

Of their own accord, Erik's hips pressed against her, the hard length of him putting to rest any doubts she had about his desire for her. He softly nuzzled her neck, skimming the soft skin with his teeth, nipping her gently in sensual playfulness.

"You have no idea of the things I dream of doing to you..." he growled huskily, "....with you." His words moved through her with vicious softness. Branding her. Marking her. As surely as if he had taken her body right then and there.

Wanting him to claim her; wanting to be owned by this man in whose arms she found the only true peace on earth she had ever known – that deep, intrinsic need drove home what she had already decided to do while flying from San Antonio to California.

"I love you, Erik." Christine said, looking him deep in the eyes. When he didn't respond with anything other than a look of shock, she continued. "Marry me....tonight. We can drive to Vegas and get married quickly, easily...and start our life together...tonight."

Stunned beyond words, Erik's narrowed gaze drilled into hers, knowing she could hide nothing from him in those honest, mocha pools. What he saw, staggered him.

"You really want to get married." He stated; shock and disbelief leaving him defenseless against the onslaught of pure happiness that filled his heart, "To me." He added with wonderment.

Tears welled at the befuddled look on his face, but Christine nodded her head. "You're the man I should have married five years ago....you're the man I should have been making love to all these years and making babies with." Erik reached up and tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek, a wondrous look of happiness on his face. "I don't want to waste another day."

It sounded like a dream come true; a place Erik had never been that called to him from across a great void that seemed impossible to cross. Could it be that all he he'd ever wanted was finally going to come to be?

"Christine, Love, you don't even know me....not really." He argued, "I come from a very dark, painful past that has left irreparable damage...I'm not sure I even know how to be what you want me to be...what you deserve for me to be.

"Besides my obvious physical flaws, I often awaken in a cold sweat because of the fierce nightmares that still haunt me after almost thirty years."

She held her breath as he opened up, seemingly without meaning to, and told her his life story...finally.

"I was born in Romania during some of the heaviest civil and political uprisings the country has ever known. My parents were both professionals, unusual in Romania during that time. My mother was a magnificent musician and my father was a brilliant scientist. Neither of those things would have been a problem if an acquaintance hadn't unintentionally exposed their disapproval of the communist party to the wrong people. They were free spirits, both of them, and it didn't bode well. My mother especially..." He paused at that moment, the sweet sound of his mother's singing stirring his memories once more. "...she had the most beautiful voice...like an angel it was. She used to sing me to sleep with songs about the love of God and His sacrifice on the cross...I remember feeling loved and safe in her arms as she sang."

Erik swallowed deeply, breaking the semi-trance he had been in, "They butchered her and my father in front of me....then they turned on me." His hand went to his damaged cheek, his fingers shaking with the force of his memories, "For reasons I'll never fully understand, they spared my life. Taking only the right side of my face and my right eye as a payment for whatever crimes they felt I had committed at that time...." He smiled sadly, his eyes pools of reflective memories, "....I was all of four years old."

Christine allowed the tears to flow freely at that point, knowing it would do no good to try and suppress them. The pain she knew he felt and had suffered most of his life, sank into her heart like a balled fist of fury – burning and scarring her. She wasn't sure how much more she could bear, but he needed to tell her these things, and she needed to listen.

"I spent the next four years learning to survive by stealing, lying, manipulating...whatever was necessary. I learned to hide myself in plain sight, and move among people like a shadow – blending into my surroundings like a chameleon. Most of the time, it served me well; but I got caught once, stealing from a rich farmer; I was trying to have at least one meal that week. They weren't fast enough to lay hands on me, but they had a gun..."

Erik absently rubbed the upper part of his right thigh, "...I still have the bullet embedded in my thigh bone....it can never be removed."

Christine quieted the whimper that had lodged in her throat. Della had touched on the horrors that had been in Erik's past, but she had left the details to him. Now, as Christine pictured in her mind the events as Erik verbalized them, she wondered if she would ever be able to forget them; she knew he never would and would carry the scars – inside and out – for the remainder of his days.

"When I was eight, a merchant ship docked in Constanta. I had managed to eek out an existence in the large port city, finding a home in a cave not far off the coast. I was constantly hungry, filthy from head to toe, crippled in one leg, blind in one eye, and at first glance – worthless. When they put the news out that any young children needing a hot meal and a warm bed could come aboard the ship and eat and sleep to their hearts content...I was the first to show – but others followed. This went on for several days and nights, long enough for me to latch on to an older boy that had appointed himself my guardian. Gregori was five years older than me, but he may as well been old enough to be my father at the time."

Erik paused long enough to sweep his hands across his eyes, a wistful glaze of tears making them glossy. Christine knew that any thoughts of Gregori made him somber. She had heard the name mentioned several times over the past week, but no one had ever really explained the nature of Erik's relationship with the man, or the woman who had been his wife.

"We spent ten years aboard that ship...slaving for the man who mastered it. We had gone from one hellish existence straight into another." There was a biting edge to his tone, indicating to Christine that this man – whoever he'd been – had hurt Erik all over again. "But we had each other...and then Tess entered the picture." Erik smiled warmly, recalling the first time he'd seen the beautiful, blond woman. "We picked her up in one of the many ports we frequented...ports us kids were never allowed to visit. We were never let off the ship after he tricked us into coming aboard for good..." silence as Erik reflected once again, "...anyway, she was as beautiful as an angel and we both believed her to be one. She was a couple of years older than Gregori, but they eventually fell in love aboard that devil ship."

He genuinely smiled this time, lighting up his eyes and warming his features. He had loved them both, very much.

"She was a smart one, Tess.....she planned our escape and I was blessed to be a part of it....she had adopted me as her brother, giving me a sense of belonging that I'd never felt before. She stood up against Master when he beat me – physically or verbally – and she would have never left me behind. At the tender age of eighteen, I found myself my own master for the first time. We had escaped in Puerto Rico, and found a boat willing to bring us all to the states. We eventually became citizens, Gregori and Tess got married and the rest is recent history."

"But you're so educated...how did this happen?" Christine asked, still buzzing from the details he'd laid out for her.

"Financial aid, mostly, school was the one thing I'd been denied that I'd longed for during my formative years....Gregori and Tess taught me a great deal, only making my thirst for knowledge stronger and harder to control.. I remember Tess commenting several times on how smart I was, despite my lack of formal education. She's the one that pushed me to go to M.I.T and wow the professors and others with my intelligence."

He smiled broadly, chuckling at the memory, "Which is exactly what I did."

The fact that he had any happy memories whatsoever was a miracle, considering his past. Christine couldn't think of anything uplifting and encouraging to say, so all she could do was kiss him, hoping that somehow her kiss would wipe away all the pain that had plagued him for so long.

The kiss stripped them both bare, exposing every desire they had held in check for the days they had known each other. Erik realized at that moment that Christine really did love him, as miraculous and unbelievable as that was. He realized in that moment how much he wanted to marry her, have babies with her....have everything he'd too long denied himself.

Breaking the kiss with an excited smile, Erik cupped her face with his hands, smiling down into her beautiful face, "Yes, I'll marry you...tomorrow." He assured her. "I need to buy a ring and let Tony, Thax and Della know...just in case they'd like to be there."

Christine laughed, tears rolling down her cheeks, "Vegas...I want to get married in Vegas. It will be the most outrageous thing I've ever done...a great story for our children and grandchildren."

Erik took her hand and guided her away from the secluded table toward the door, where the limo awaited them. Once inside, he pulled her against him, needing her body to make him feel whole again.

"By the way, I've filed the papers to adopt Peyton and Paige as my own. Are you up to being their mother?"

She caressed his cheek softly, noting the stubble that had begun to form...it made her knees go weak. Her smile, although almost hidden in the darkness of the hour, still lit up his heart.

"Yes, my love...very much so."

After that, no words needed to be said.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Erik couldn't remember a time when Tony Stark had been struck dumb, but it had finally happened.

"Tony, are you in there?" Erik asked, waving his hand in front of Tony's eyes for affect.

Pepper suffered no such ailment, but rushed forward to encase Christine in a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you. After all you two have been through in a week, this is just wonderful!"

The children were tucked away in their beds, the hour still very young. Erik had to fight everything within him to keep from awakening them and telling them he was getting married. Just saying it to himself made it seem like a fairytale, a dream that he would awaken from and reality would hit with sudden and deadly force.

"Did you call Della?" Erik asked Christine.

She had requested to be the one to tell her, after all that Della had done for her. Over the course of the week, Christine had begun to think of her as an older sister; something she had always longed for, having been an only child.

"Yes, I did. She and Francois are flying out tomorrow and will meet us in Vegas." Christine assured him. "Have you called Thax?"

"Calling him does no good, he never answers his cell. I emailed him." Erik stated frankly, "I suspect he'll call when he reads it."

"There's a call I'd like to listen in on." Tony responded, finally awakening from whatever coma he had slipped into. "I really am happy for ya man...honestly. But why would a man willingly tie himself to one woman..." he focused on Christine, "....no matter how beautiful she is..." his eyes left her and landed on Erik once more, "...it just ain't the natural course of things."

"You're a pig, Tony, have I told you that lately?" Erik said, a comical, exasperated expression on his face.

"Not lately, no. And I'm not sure I deserve it at this point."

"Yes. You do." Every person in the room responded, simultaneously.

Tony threw up his hands in surrender, although everyone knew he still wouldn't back down from his boorish way of thinking; it was who he was....take it or leave it.

"While I was online emailing Thax, I booked our wedding at the Valley of the Falls Palace, at The Hotel at Mandalay Bay. Everything is arranged. Oddly enough, they actually knew who I was...someone had seen one my productions in San Antonio and before I knew it, we were booked for tomorrow at 6:00 pm."

Erik seemed pleasantly surprised that they knew who he was in Las Vegas. He did not seek fame in any way, but a man with his talent didn't escape the public eye easily.

"Erik, I can help pay for this you know...it's my wedding too." Christine piped in, not wanting him to feel like he had to pay for everything.

"Nonsense, let me do what the man is supposed to do." He responded, sounding every bit the proud man he had long been robbed of being. "Now...." he grabbed Tony by the arm and spun him around, "....you're going with me to pick out a ring."

"Me!? Why me?" He exclaimed, playing the unwilling friend to irritating perfection.

Erik leveled a fiery gaze at him, "Because I said so, that's why."

"Don't exercise your your he-man muscles on me, mister....it won't work. I'll come because I choose to help you in this endeavor...and for no other reason."

Erik rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Lets go."

"Oh, and Darling...:" Christine called to him as he and Tony were leaving. "...I'm getting you a ring too...every woman who meets you will know that you are taken. By me, if I have my way."

Erik came back to the kitchen, smiling. "What makes you think other women would even care if I'm taken?"

"Because...all it takes for a man to be noticed is a ring on his finger. Believe me, you think women haven't been aware of you up to now..." she arched her brows to drive her point home, "...they've noticed you. You've just had a big 'I-can't-stand-myself' sign around her neck because you thought you were unattractive."

Pepper was nodding her head in agreement, with everything Christine was saying.

"If you don't love yourself, Erik, how do you expect others to love you? Most women cringe at the thought of building a man's ego up after its been destroyed – even a man who's as gorgeous and delicious as you are."

A dark brow rose at the use of the word, "delicious". Did she actually call him delicious? He almost laughed aloud but thought better of if when he glanced up and saw that Pepper was agreeing again. Erik was looking between the two women with disbelief on his face. They returned his incredulous stare with stubborn lifts to their chins and sly smiles.

"I dd not....the sign thing...I didn't have a sign around my neck. Woman have never had anything to do with me; especially not with Tony and Thax around; I was just the ugly friend that always tagged along."

"Who told you that, Erik...a woman?"Christine asked, finally ready to settle this whole argument.

Fumbling around for something to say, Erik finally realized that no one had told him that since he'd been a pubescent boy on a boat. "No...it's just common knowledge. I mean..." his focus went to Tony who had wandered back in the door after Erik had left him standing at the front door, "...look at him. What woman would want a crippled, blind man when they could have this?" He looked Tony over, from head to toe, hoping someone understood his point of view.

Christine approached him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly, "A woman like me, that's who." She smiled at Tony and laughed, "No offense Tony...you're just too full of yourself."

Tony smiled back and nodded, "None taken...and..." giant, irritating grin, "...thank you."

Christine giggled again, wrestling Erik out of the stupor he seemed to have slipped into. No one had dared tell him the things that Christine was telling him. She had thoroughly rattled him with her response. So, he came back with the only defense he had.

Humor.

"Okay, so you chose me; but we all know you're twisted."

Christine smiled wickedly at him, "Ah....but you love that about me."

She had him there.

"I love everything about you...I love you." He chuckled shyly, "I just realized I never said that after you told me you loved me." He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. "I do you know....I loved you the moment you wrestled me to the floor and pinned me there with nothing but your wit and beauty."

And a giant dose of lust, Erik recalled. It had torn through him like a hurricane, leaving him hard and wanting. From the look in her eyes, she knew exactly how he had reacted to her.

"I never want to hear you say a bad thing about the man I love...never. Do you hear me?" Christine stated, no-nonsense authority sounding in her voice.

Erik smiled, succumbing willingly to her power over him, "Yes Ma'am."

After that discussion, Erik and Tony left, off on a safari hunt for the perfect ring. Christine and Pepper stayed with the children until the men returned. Then it was their turn.

۞۞۞

"I really love this one...it's stunning in its simplicity, and I think Erik would appreciate that. He doesn't strike me as the ostentatious type."

Pepper couldn't have agreed more with Christine choice. The ring was a solid gold band of 18 caret with a large star burst of white gold in the middle; centered in the middle of that star burst was a ½ caret diamond; the effect made if look like the sun.

"I've known Erik for several years, and ostentatious is definitely something he's not." Pepper stated. "I've always found him quiet and reserved; more apt to spend a rainy day in front of the fire place reading a book rather than go to a club of some kind and draw attention to himself."

"So true." Christine agreed. She motioned for the saleslady to come over.

She woman was probably all of a hundred years old if she was seventy, but she knew her fine jewelry. "This is one of our finest rings, unique in it's design and the only one there is. All of our rings come with lifetime warranties, and we design then right here at the store, so should there be any problems, just bring it back and we'll do what we can to make it right."

All of this was spoken while the lady wrapped the ring in a luxurious velvet box with a satin cushion. She was precise with her hands and dedicated to perfection; and the end product looked wonderful.

"That will be $2,365.78." The woman said, doubt washing over her face. When Christine pulled out her platinum American Express card, the woman's features took on a whole new look – after all, money does talk.

After everything was done, the ladies grabbed a late lunch and then headed home.

۞۞۞

"You know what would be awesome?" Tony asked.

They were down in his laboratory doing some upgrades on the suits and generally doing "Man" stuff. They had actually played out a sword fighting scene earlier. Erik being the victor of course, as Tony wasn't much on sword play. It had been invigorating and had served to get Erik's mind off his forthcoming nuptials.

Thax and Isis were already on their way, as were Della and Francois; they would all be meeting them in Las Vegas. They had called and said they'd decided to drive, having not seen the sights between Texas and Las Vegas before. Erik had offered to pay for them all to make the trip – whether they drove or flew - but they had all insisted on paying their own way.

The kids were tucked away in the one room Tony had that was specifically designed for children enjoying every new toy and gadget available to them. With Jarvis– the computer that ran the place – appointed as baby-sitter, the kids could not so much as sneeze without him going on alert....they were quite safe.

Erik smiled at the enthusiasm in his friends voice; not much had changed in that area since M.I.T. Tony still treated every thought and idea like a precious treasure.

"With you Tony...it's hard to say...what would be awesome?"

Without missing a beat or reacting to the obvious teasing in Erik's tone, Tony relinquished his thoughts.

"If we flew to Vegas in our suits and you landed right in the very spot where you were due to take your vows...." Tony shuttered from the vision it made. "...Christine would stare at you in sheer wonder and the guests would be clapping..." Tony sighed, thinking it was the best idea he'd ever had. "...that would be awesome."

Erik just stared at him in horror. What was the man trying to do, cause mass hysteria? "Tony, you worry me...really you do."

"Why?"

"Because....first of all, it's Christine's wedding too and as cool as that sounds, she would kill us both if we ruined the sacredness of the moment by 'flying' in all decked out in ridiculous, over-the-top suits that would do nothing but draw attention to ourselves..." Erik reminded him. "....and secondly, you know how I am with attention."

Tony squared his shoulders, visibly readying himself to argue, but quickly relaxed, obviously thinking better of it. He threw up his hands in exasperated surrender.

"Fine." He muttered loudly before turning around and walking out.

۞۞۞

It wasn't long after this that Pepper and Christine came back. Christine had picked up a wedding dress while she was out. She had picked a cream colored, silk Taffeta strapless cocktail dress with an empire bodice. It was trimmed with metallic thread embroidery and cut crystal florets adding elegance and beauty to an already stunning dress. The low cut back was balanced out with a bow that fanned out into a full arrow swing tail. She loved it! The sales lady had stressed that Christine could just remove the bow and tail and it would be an elegant, eye-catching, mid-thigh length evening dress.

Jarvis greeted them with his usual dry computer humor and Christine determined that she would never have a computerized butler service. There just seemed to be something so intrusive about it...or peculiar...either way, she didn't figure on having one.

Although Tony didn't really do much with music, he had a spectacular grand piano in the corner of his living room that had called Erik's name on many occasions over the last couple of days. Christine found him there. His head was bowed over sheets of music and his hands were busy writing. On occasions, she watched him caressing the keys with great care – seemingly deep in thought. Tony was lounging on the couch watching Peyton and Paige draw and color on the floor.

"Hi guys." Pepper stated, startling them.

"Christine!!" The children exclaimed, running quickly into her arms and knocking her to the floor in a flurry of laughs and giggles. Erik leaned on the piano, watching them play with her, a look of complete peace on his face. Had there ever been a time in his life when he had been so content? It was a rhetorical question, one he knew the answer to before he voiced it in his head, but he needed to stress to himself – over and over again – how blessed he was.

"It's about time you ladies got back....where did you go...Japan?" Tony teased, winking at Pepper.

She giggled, knowing he was just playing the part she expected him to play. He acted completely helpless around her, as though he could do nothing – not even tie his own shoes – without her getting involved; but Pepper knew better. Tony had his problems, this was true, but the man was brave and brilliant, willing to do anything for those he considered family and friends, and he put into action things that most people would have written off to being too hard or even impossible.

But she loved the fact that he needed her, if only because he forced himself to.

He jumped off the couch, energy flying from him in every direction. He filled the room with his enthusiasm as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation...of something.

"Who wants pizza?"

The question caused shouts of jubilee from the children, laughter from Christine and Pepper, and Erik's broad, beautiful smile. Tony took the approving looks as a sign that pizza was fine with everyone and went about procuring it.

"You are always hungry, have you noticed that?" Erik asked, still admiring the piano and tucking the papers away inside his shirt pocket.

"I am, this is true. Someone has to eat the food that you haven't over the years...that someone happens to be me." He looked at Peyton and Paige and wiggled his eyebrows, bringing boiling giggles from both of them. "Are you just going to sit there staring at the thing, or are you actually going to play it?" Tony asked Erik, issuing a challenge that Erik did not miss.

"Play! Please Daddy...please!" Both kids piped in, with Paige adding, "We love it when you play and sing!"

If Erik lived to be a hundred years old, nothing would be as heart-wrenching and poignant as hearing his children call him "Daddy".

He brushed his fingers over the keys, a delicate melody beginning to fill the air. His eyes closed as the words to his latest _completed_ song began filling his mind. The song had been written as he reflected back on how completely helpless he was in the face of life and all its harsh realities; how he had easily gotten lost in the hopelessness of the storm as it raged in him and around him. And how finally, looking outside his own mortality and the strength he thought he possessed, he had finally looked up...

….and God had been there all along.

"_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the oceans shapeless form._

_The waters getting harder to tread;_

_with these waves crashing over my head._

"_If I could just see You, everything would be alright._

_If I'd see You, this darkness would turn to light._

_And I.....will walk on water._

_And You... will catch me if I fall._

_And I....will get lost into Your eyes._

_And I know everything will be alright._

_I know everything is alright._

"_I know You didn't bring me out here to drown._

_So why am I ten feet under and upside down?_

_Barely surviving has become my purpose;_

_Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface._

"_If I could just see You, everything would be alright._

_If I'd see You, this darkness would turn to light._

_And I.....will walk on water._

_And You...will catch me if I fall._

_And I....will get lost into Your eyes._

_And I know everything will be alright._

_I know everything is alright."_

**Storm; **written by Jason Wade, recorded by LifeHouse, for the album "Who We Are".

The song was hauntingly beautiful, a testimony to Erik's spiritual transformation. Christine couldn't wipe the tears from her eyes as quickly as they fell. She'd never tire of hearing him sit down at a piano and play a song and sing. Once again, she was stunned by the masculine purity of his voice and the way it soothed her like a warm, sensual bath.

Her feet moved of their own accord and planted themselves directly behind him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against his back, her head resting on his shoulder. Erik leaned his head against hers, the innocent and yet very intimate action touching his very soul. She was his anchor in a world that had formally been a place of horror and pain for him; a world that had thrown him away like yesterdays garbage.

Right there, in that quiet moment, Erik could have sworn he heard his mother's soft laughter and saw his father's approving, warm smile in the waning rays of the setting sun. His heart quirked oddly in his chest, pushing unshed tears to the surface. He was loved; he'd known that long ago; but the world had yanked the feeling from him, stolen it with its wretched hatred and prejudice.

_I'm happy...really happy, for the first time in over thirty years, I'm truly happy. _Erik whispered in his mind, knowing that his words were heard. _Thank You._

He stood up and turned in Christine's arms, dragging her against him in a quick dance move. Not caring that the children were present, Erik took her smiling mouth in a sweet, possessive kiss; robbing her of breath. As quickly as he had initiated it, it was over, but they stood there embracing, neither of them able to take their eyes off each other.

"I love you, Christine....with every beat of my heart and all that I am." Erik murmured in her ear, spying the child-like wonder on the faces of his children as they watched them.

"You can't possibly love me more than I love you, Erik Miklos...and you know it." Christine emphasized, playfully poking him in the chest with her finger.

"You two need to get a room." Tony said, walking over to them with a huge grin on his face.

If looks could kill, Tony would be lying on the floor having been zapped by the killer stares Erik and Christine were drilling him with. Of course, he wasn't in the least bit concerned, he was rather enjoying himself. There had never been a chance in the past for him to tease Erik about relationships because the man had single-handedly sabotaged any and all opportunities he'd ever had by simply being unapproachable in every way possible.

"Didn't your mothers ever tell you your faces would freeze like that?" Tony asked them, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused, questioning look on his face.

"You're really trying to get yourself beaten to a bloody pulp, aren't you?" Erik asked, glaring at Tony with something akin to a predatory glint in his eyes.

Although he knew Erik was capable of doing just that, Tony refused to look aghast in any way. "Please, you've been threatening to do that to me for years....you're all bark and no bite, Erik."

Erik couldn't keep up the facade any longer, he broke into a light laugh and pulled his friend into his arms for a big man-hug. This was unusual for him, having little reason in the past to show too much emotion with anyone...he'd always felt the emotions, but revealing them meant showing a vulnerability that Erik had been terrified to display.

"You're just jealous, admit it?" Erik teased.

He was. And how odd was that? Falling in love was something Tony had avoided – at all cost – like the plague. However, seeing Erik finally being the man he, and everyone who knew him, had always known he could be made Tony rather curious about this thing called love. Maybe it wouldn't kill him to consider it and start thinking of women as something more than just a quick fix for a temporary condition.

"I'll admit no such thing." Of course, he was who he was. He turned and walked away from them, paying their scowls no mind. He threw a wicked grin at the kids and crooked his finger at them, winking playfully, "Come on, the pizza's here."

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

One more chapter closer to the end....I hope my delightful readers are enjoying it. Happy Labor Day...and I turn 45 this Thursday...WOW! Where does time go?

Now, if my faithful will excuse me for a moment, I must rant....

To "Is Not Pleased"...whoever you are: it sounds as though you have read other stories of mine and are shocked that the Erik I write doesn't resemble the "original" literary version. You are, of course, welcome to your opinion, but if you'd take the time to read my profile you would know what my opinions are and why I write the way I write; I make it QUITE clear that my Erik is - AND ALWAYS WILL BE - Gerik. And as a writer, I can and do take liberties where I desire to do so...and I'm not the only writer on this site that does that. If you don't like my way of writing, and disagree with my style or characterization, then feel free to move on - nobody is making you read this story or any of my stories...that decision rests completely on your shoulders.

Okay, I'm done.

CHAPTER 24

There wasn't even time to breathe the next day. Christine couldn't remember being this flustered at her first wedding. Of course, considering the consequences and the subsequent results, she took that as a good sign. Erik had left the details out, trying to make this day as special as possible; he had also driven with Tony and the kids to Las Vegas, leaving her and Pepper to come on their own. Which wasn't a problem, really, as Pepper was very familiar with the plans and knew her way around.

The problem was that Christine hadn't seen Erik since last night, and the last kiss he had given her before telling her he'd see her in Las Vegas only left her panting like a wanton she-cat. The man had a way with his lips and tongue that had her body convinced it was going to burst into flame if he didn't just take her, right there, on the floor, in front of God and everyone.

The erotic pull of her thoughts caused her nipples to pebble and wickedly delightful waves of warm desire to pool in her womanly core. Pepper looked at her and giggled lightly, shaking her head at the obvious sign of arousal.

"I can only imagine what you're thinking that would have you blushing so and panting in such a way..." Pepper commented, her light eyes taking on an ethereal glint. "...I'm thinking Erik will be worth the wait, you lucky woman."

Well, that was certainly an interesting tidbit of information. Christine hadn't even considered that Pepper might be interested in Erik. Why hadn't she ever made a move on him...? honestly, a woman could die of old age waiting on Erik to make the first move. Of course, Christine was thankful the woman hadn't had the nerves to pull it off.

Glancing at her, Christine almost let a wave of pure jealousy overtake her. Pepper was a beautiful woman; strawberry blond hair, cornflower blue eyes; white, creamy complexion wonderfully dotted with tiny freckles over her nose. Tall, stately, slender....it was enough to make Christine want to spit nails.

No woman wanted to compete with that.

It was a good thing, at least for Pepper's sake, that Erik didn't show the least bit of interest in her. Christine was competitive by nature, and no one fared well when they went head to head with her; even a disgustingly attractive blond who had a good four inches on her. Once Christine was done with her, they would have had to mop her up off the floor.

Of course, all of her nasty thoughts were put to rest by the sweet nature of the woman beside her. Pepper would do nothing to hurt another human being, and Christine had no doubts that she was sincere in her well-wishes.

Sighing deeply and smiling wickedly, Christine answered. "I know he will be, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy the waiting period."

Giggling lightly, Pepper agreed. "That is so true. Thank goodness we don't have to adhere to that 'two-year' engagement thing that our parents and grandparents seemed to think was so important....how people made it that long...I'll never know."

Oh yeah...that wouldn't have happened if Christine had been alive back then. No way. There were so may times in the last couple of days that just a heated gaze from him was enough to send her over the edge...it was almost like his hands were on her, greedily working her into a wild frenzy. Her body had cried out from the sweet torture he was inflicting - be it unintentionally - and Christine longed to know what it would be like to finally yield to the passion that Raoul had denied her. Not once, in their three years of marriage, had she been granted sexual fulfillment. Raoul hadn't the patience...or maybe it was the skill...to give her satisfaction.

Selfish scumbag.

When she thought about all that she had wasted on that good for nothing twit, Christine almost lost the contents of her stomach. She'd given him not just her virginity, but her innocence as well. Her zest for life and all that it held had been squelched beneath the weight of his indifference. He had taken her life just as sure as if he'd pulled the trigger of a gun and shot her.

But what Raoul had taken from her, Erik had given back. Oh, she knew she'd never be a virgin again, that was one thing she couldn't take back, but she could go to Erik pure in her heart, knowing that he was her soul-mate, the man she was meant to be with. She'd never known fulfillment, whether sexually, physically, or mentally – never, but the way her body buzzed when Erik touched her...or even when his eyes were the only part of him caressing her, made Christine melt.

"If we had to wait that long, they'd be putting me in the loony bin....that's for sure." Christine finally stated, making Pepper laugh aloud.

Minutes later, Christine felt her stomach leap in excitement as they entered the valley that housed Las Vegas, the biggest little city in America coming into view. The trip had taken a little over five hours, traffic being minimal. Christine had jolted out of bed at 5 am after they'd packed what few items they'd need the night before. Erik, Tony, and the kids had left around 3 am to get there early enough to oversee the preparations.

Now, the morning had disappeared and the noon hour was quickly approaching. The wedding was at 6 pm, but Christine had so much to do; not that a lot of it wasn't already being done by the wedding planners, but Christine wanted to look her best – and that, they couldn't do for her.

"You said you know a good hairdresser in Vegas?"

Pepper nodded. "Yes, she's the absolute best. If it weren't such a long way away, I'd come here every weekend just to have her do my hair and nails. I've already made you an appointment."

Wow...she was sure efficient. If she weren't so devoted to Tony, Christine might consider stealing her away as her own secretary.

۞۞۞

Somewhere between yesterday and today, Tony had transformed into the man Erik gladly claimed as his best friend. Without him, Erik would have gone completely nuts. Between tuxedo sizing and flower arranging, Erik wasn't sure he could bear one more moment. His thoughts kept drifting to the events that would unfold tonight when it was just Christine and him. Alone. In the hotel room.

When this uninvited wandering of his thoughts occurred, Erik angrily thrust himself back into the current situation and put himself completely at the mercy of those who knew what they were doing. Or at least he hoped they knew what they were doing. He wanted this day to be perfect for her. Christine had already had one wedding, and Erik did not want this day compared to that one...in any way.

Pepper had come in not long ago and told them that Christine was busy getting her hair and nails done, as well as having a professional massage. Erik had arranged all of this, of course, and had given Pepper the low down this morning via text message.

Try as he could, Erik couldn't dismiss the idea that he would be a giant disappointment to Christine when it came to his skills as a lover....or the lack there of. He had nothing to go on; even a bad experience would have been experience of some kind. But he had nothing. And this was not a subject one discussed with one's best friend; so Erik kept his trepidations to himself.

It wasn't that he didn't know what to do...he was a man after all....he knew the basic idea. He had been profoundly scarred by a couple of porno flicks when he had been at M.I.T.; disgusted and aroused at the same time, he'd never gotten those images out of his mind. He knew the map of the female form; new the areas that were most sensitive – theoretically – but that didn't mean that every woman was the same. Did it?

Flustered beyond reason, Erik thrust his hands through his hair for what had to be the hundredth time and tried to calm the racing of his heart and quell the flips his stomach had decided it needed to do. He felt clammy and nauseated, a result of nerves he could have sworn he didn't have showing themselves for the first time in his life.

Looking around the spacious outdoor platform that would soon become the sacred grounds upon which Christine would become his wife, Erik was impressed with the transformation. The flowers, white Orchids and yellow roses, were splayed in arches, lining the outside of the circular, stone floor. The pillars that resembled a Grecian temple, were clothed with lavender Orchids and Lavender; the soothing, calming scent of it wafted throughout the area.

He had paid extra to have a small ensemble of string instruments play softly in the background, and he watched them slowly make their way into the designated stone alcove designed just for them. The musicians were dressed elegantly in black suits for the men and black dresses for the ladies.

Glancing at his watch, Erik realized it was time for him to get dressed and make sure he looked the best he could. As he made his way toward his dressing room, he shook his head in disbelief. As a boy, he'd never really considered getting married at any point in time, that's just not something little boys did; but as he got older and realized that his scarred and crippled body didn't make for a good impression on the opposite sex, any thoughts of ever getting married had quickly been cast aside.

Despite all that, he'd heard his share of, "Oh Erik, you wait; there's someone out there for everyone, and your flaws will only make that person love you more". But what did they know? Della and Gregori; Thax, even Tony...what did they honestly know? None of them had any more experience than he did...well...at least not in the marriage category.

But then Gregori met Tess; and all of Erik's preconceptions on marriage went out the door. They loved each other - deeply, wholly, completely – there was never a day that went by that they didn't express that love to each other.

At first, it all made Erik sick.

But as Tess had become a part of the family, Erik had reluctantly accepted her into his life. He'd never really been around women before. His years at M.I.T. had been lessons in solitude and self-disgust. He'd quickly learned he was invisible where women were concerned; they either looked right through him or stared blatantly at him – giving him the distinct impression they would have been happy had he dropped dead right in front of them.

Over the few years she'd been his life, Tess had tried to show him through her actions and emphasize with her words that Erik was indeed a man worthy of a woman's attentions. She'd tried to convince him that the stares had probably been appreciative rather than obnoxious; his thick, dark hair, strong, toned body, and damaged, rugged handsomeness being the things women fantasized about; dark, wounded hero's from the romance novels so many adored.

Erik had never believed it; and honestly, he still didn't.

But Christine made him want to believe it. Nothing else really mattered in the long run; nothing but her opinion and what he saw in her eyes when she looked at him. It was those things that sustained him.

The elevator slowed as it approached the floor his room was on. He had just enough time to shower, shave, and present himself in a black tuxedo. He'd never been so anxious about anything in his life....this was scarier than facing a loaded gun at the age of seven had been. Even then, he'd known what the outcome would be and had braced himself for it; but in this case, he was holding on by a wing and prayer....and the wing was most likely broken.

۞۞۞

It was all so elegant and tasteful, unlike anything Christine could have imagined. The images she'd had in her mind of a wedding in Vegas had been anything but flattering; an Elvis look alike on loan from one of the local shows ready to sing "Crying in the Chapel" or some such song and gyrating his hips in embarrassing ways; annoying tourists roaming around all over the place creating humiliating scenes that would require years of therapy.

Of course, she had to admit that the only source she had to draw from was television; and how reliable was that? Not very. Erik had spared not a dime when it came to the package wedding they were getting....it had to have cost a small fortune. She recalled the glint in his eye as he had given her a few of the details, just enough to pull her interest; he had looked gloriously happy. He relished being able to pay for his own wedding; the wedding he'd thought he'd never have.

After spanning the circular, outdoor sanctuary that would orchestrate their vows, Christine headed back toward her room to get ready; unfortunately, she hadn't seen Erik, he'd purposefully stayed away – making the day that much more special to her. She hadn't made it far when one of the attendants handed her an envelope with her name on it, written in bold, elegant handwriting that she immediately recognized as Erik's.

She sat down on a stone bench leading back into the hotel and opened the envelope.

_My Love, _

Her throat clenched with emotion and her eyes swelled with tears....before she even knew what he'd written.

_One would think that I'd be full of philosophical words and flattering phrases at a time like this; having never been faced with such a situation; but the truth is, you leave me unable to think rationally or form words; breathless. Not just your beauty, which is unmatched as far as I'm concerned, but your spirit as well._

_You took a wounded, beaten down boy and turned him into a man with just one glance of your eyes. You took a soul that had known little light, little happiness, and showed it what living was all about. You took a mere mortal, scarred and broken, and showed him the way to immortality.  
_

_For these things, I pledge my life to you; such that it is. There will never be a time when I will not be there for you as far as it depends on me; I can only pray that God does not have other plans for me. There will never be a time when I will give you cause to doubt me – on any level. There will never be a time when my love for you will not shine forth in my eyes, be felt in my touch, or be evident in my words._

_Whatever life brings our way, know this, Christine Helena Drummond, you are and always will be the love of my life, my soul mate, my best friend._

_I can't wait to call myself your husband._

_Erik_

When she reached the end of the letter, Christine could barely see through the tears that flooded her eyes. The man certainly had a way with words – somehow touching every sensitive nerve ending in her body with his beautiful, poetic writing. She'd never heard their equal, not where she was concerned.

It was at that precise moment that Della and Pepper came to get her, prepared to help her get ready. They were both so full of smiles that Christine couldn't help but smile back...beside them, was Paige, eager to do her part.

"Where's Peyton?"

Paige, in such a grown up fashion, waved her hand in a non-committal manner, "Oh, he's with Daddy, helping him, and Uncle Thax, and Uncle Tony all get ready."

"It's going to be okay, Christine...there's no reason to cry." Della assured her.

Christine had to laugh at that, knowing they thought she was having cold feet or some such trepidations. "It's not that, Erik wrote me a beautiful letter that I just finished reading...he certainly has a way with words."

"I'm sure he does. At least his music seems to indicate that he does." Della stated with a nod of her head.

"I don't think Tony has a romantic bone in his body...the man wanted to wear his Ironman suit to the wedding!" Pepper injected, aghast at the very thought of it. "He actually wanted Erik to wear his and fly to Vegas in the suits..." She shook her head at the ridiculous picture she had in her head, "...can you imagine? At least Erik has sense enough to know it was not appropriate."

Knowing that it was probably the threat of publicity that made Erik hesitant to indulge Tony's whims....no matter how ridiculous they were, Christine chuckled and shook her head, "Men will be men, Pepper...they're just little boys at heart, that's all."

"Preach it sister...that is the gospel truth!" Isis said as she ambled toward them. She had heard enough as she approached to know exactly what they were talking about. "Thax is worse than a child most days...I'd stick him in time out, but he'd pout and sulk to the point that all I'd want to do is strangle him...." they all laughed at that one, "...so I just let him be."

They were all heading toward Christine's room, anxious to be dressed and ready; the wedding would be begin in an hour, and there was still a lot of work to be done. Christine's hair and nail looked ravishing, but the rest of her had to catch up.

Twenty-five minutes later, Christine was in her dress, her shoes were on, her make-up was done and looking back from the mirror was a woman whose inner light glowed with a joy she'd never known before.

Della and Isis turned her around, inch by inch, inspecting each detail and finally stood back and nodded in approval.

"I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful bride." Della stated, her voice cracking at the end with the force of her emotions. "Isis and I thought you might like this...we know Erik will."

She picked up a box wrapped in gold paper and handed it to Christine. Giving them both an amused, questioning scowl, Christine took the box and pulled the paper off. Once the box was exposed, she removed the top, folded over the tissue paper hiding the contents, and gasped in surprise.

The most lacy, feminine looking gown she'd ever seen; an intimate gown meant to woo a man in every way possible before he ripped it from her body and took was beneath it, was nestled seductively amongst the tissue paper. Deep, forest green; long and frilly, the elegant gown had a bodice top and a flowing, flared open skirt that reached around her hips but went no further. It came complete with panties, lacy hose, garter belts and stiletto heels.

Christine grinned, picking the light-weight gown up and feeling the texture against her skin. She'd never dared to own a piece of clothing like this before, but she'd often thought about it.

"It's beautiful!" She declared breathlessly.

"Yeah, we thought you'd like it. It's Erik's favorite color; all he'll see is you...nothing else.."

Premonitions about the coming night filled Christine with excitement and anxiety; it wasn't like she was a virgin, but Erik was....and that alone added a bit of pressure to the situation. Now she knew a little bit of what it was like for a man; the deflowering process and all. To think that Erik had never known the pleasures of making love; never known the joy of becoming one with another human being in the most intimate way that God had designed – for a husband and wife.

"Earth to Christine...where are you?"

Della waved her hand in front of Christine's face to awaken her from her reverie. She blinked a few times to clear her mind and than looked at Della with an innocent stare...or at least she hoped it looked innocent. She certainly didn't need the women guessing by the blush that was spreading across her cheeks what the thoughts that were racing through her mind. She would share no thoughts of an ever-so-naked Erik laid out on a bed for her feasting pleasure. Oh no, those thoughts and pictures were hers and hers alone.

Besides, there were children present....she had to look innocent.

Pepper looked at everyone and then smiled broadly, "It's time."

And Christine said a silent prayer, praying God would prevent Erik from changing his mind and running for the hills while he still could. Her heart lurched in silent thanks for all that He had given her, despite her own shortcomings...

...and then she was leading the way through the door and toward the outdoor sanctuary.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Racing toward the finish line.

Let me issue an apology for misinterpreting reviews that were meant to be constructive. I tend to read into the "tone" of the written review, which is not always the smart way of doing things. As for writing a "dark" Erik, I'm not sure I have the capability. I don't have a dark time in my life that I can draw from...and I draw from personal experience to design and orchestrate my characters. I'll try to design a more "fallen angel" Erik...we'll see how that goes.

Thanks again. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 25

Erik's nerves were causing two reactions; they made him fidget and they made him sick. He was experiencing both at this very moment. It didn't really matter that his logical, intellectual side told him that Christine would never leave him hanging; she was far too sweet-natured. The more dominant side of him, the side that had ruled for far to long and wasn't ready to give up ownership, was busy trying to convince him that no matter how much she seemed to enjoy his company and even engaged in some amazing make-out sessions with him, she was just playing him and this wedding was her final laugh.

However, the moment he rested his eyes upon her ethereal form, Erik banished all doubts and negative thoughts from his mind. She was perfection in human form. A vision of serene femininity draped in a rich cream satiny dress, Erik could not move his eyes from her. Everyone else seemed to fade into the background; the many who had come.

Erik didn't know most of them; some having come from Dallas after hearing that Christine was getting married, some coming just to see Tony Stark, aka Ironman. He had even seen a few business associates from the defense department. Upon seeing them all, Erik had turned to Tony and asked in astonishment how they had found out when the wedding had only been planned yesterday?

Tony had simply shrugged his shoulders and stated without remorse or conviction, "Blogs, U-tube, Facebook, MySpace...you name it. We live in a time when news travels faster than the speed of light – or so it seems."

Erik had accepted those answers with a brief nod of his head and pursed lips, then he'd turned to Tony and pegged him with a fierce stare, "That may be so." Erik agreed, "But frankly, I blame you."

It was true; San Antonio media, L.A. media, Dallas media; it was enough to drive the Old Erik into seclusion for weeks. But the New Erik...? He was just ticked.

"Me? Why do you blame me?" Tony had added, shocked to be accused.

"Look around you Tony, most of these people haven't a clue who I am or who Christine is. That only leaves you. Ever since the San Antonio media found out that I know you, they've been hounding me far more than they ever used to."

Tony had been listening intently, honest he had been. "So, you admit that they had been hounding you before I came into the picture."

Erik's look was one of complete "nothing"; he didn't blink, he didn't twitch – nothing. "Locally, Tony, they had hounded me locally." He finally stressed. He pointed to a little, balding man who carried a large camera. "Look, the _L.A. Times_ is here..." he moved his finger to a tall, lanky man with a bad hairpiece, "_The National Inquirer_", he moved his finger again, "_E.T_.", and again, "_People_...you name it and they have a reporter here....why...?" Erik paused briefly, crossing his arms over his chest, "...because of you, that's why."

"I didn't know they'd be here...it's not my fault." Tony countered, "Besides, they are going to be focused on me, not you two."

That might possibly be true, but Erik wasn't about to admit it, "I just don't want my or Christine's picture plastered all over the morning papers...or tonight's for that matter." Erik growled.

"I'll do damage control." Tony promised with sincerity in his voice, "You just get yourself hitched."

True to his word, Tony had thwarted the media with a personal interview and enough pictures to fill an entire middle section of any nationwide newspaper. He'd even hired a couple of well-dressed, extremely muscled cronies to monitor picture taking during the ceremony.

What a guy.

Erik recalled that he may have been a slight bit abrupt with Tony, but the man certainly lived in the now and didn't really think a great deal about consequences or after affects. He was better in some aspects than others, such as his weapons now...since he'd been victimized by them; but he was still very much a pleasure seeker – no matter what.

Of course, none of that seemed to matter anymore as Christine walked toward him accompanied by Mozart on the violin and cello. She literally left him breathless....and she was giving herself to him. HIM. It hardly seemed to fair to her, allowing her to chain herself to him. But he was far to selfish and deeply in love to let her go.

Christine was equally as stunned by Erik. He looked devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, he had a slightly arrogant tilt to his mouth that made her legs feel like jello, and his hair was still adorably mused as though he'd just left the bed and hadn't thought to comb it; it was the normal way it fell, but she found it irresistible.

He had donned the eye-patch, which, along with the arrogant smirk and dark, smoldering attractive cut of his features made the man a treasure above all others - at least to her. How had she survived the years she had without him in her life? It was a mystery she intended to spend the remaining years of her life unraveling.

He reached for her and she grasped his hand, feeling his warmth feed into her like a ray of sun. Her stomach was flipping over, doing somersaults of anxiety. His touch felt both natural and unnerving, sending shock-waves of pure electricity shooting through her. She had never reacted to a man the way she reacted to Erik...which she knew to be a good thing.

"Dearly beloved,"

They both turned at the same time, neither of them having been aware of the minister standing there. He was a kind, compassionate looking man with warm, brown eyes and an easy smile. He wasn't much older than Erik, but his manner was very fatherly.

"I haven't had the pleasure of knowing these two people, but I have spent the last hour or so talking to their friends and co-workers, those who know them best, and have determined that despite what life has given them, they have found each other. Through the chaos and the constant barrage of white noise that seems so dominant in today's world, two hurting and lonely souls have heard each other.

"Where I come from and in my line of work, I consider that a miracle."

There was a hushed sigh in the crowd, a heavenly aura that provided a sense of peace. The rays of the sun shone like radiant arcs through the trees that surrounded them and it was the sacred place that Christine had so wanted it to be....for God was there; she felt Him.

"God never intended for man to be alone, so He designed a help mate; a partner if you prefer, to help balance life and its many trials." He paused, smiling at Erik and Christine and then fanning that smile out to the crowd. "What an awesome concept that is, if you dwell on it. God, the Maker of the universe, the Creator of all, took the time to create for us – men – a woman...beautiful, soft, intelligent..." he winked at Christine and then smiled at Erik, "...and blind to our faults."

Pinning Erik with a sincere gaze, his voice became very reverent, "He saw you, Erik, your pain, your desire, your needs, and created Christine....isn't that an awesome thought?"

And it was.

"What is so amazing about this couple..." the young minister stressed, "...is that Christine was the one who asked Erik to marry her." He winked at her again, "And I find that both amusing and fascinating. He obviously said yes, or we wouldn't be here today."

Everyone laughed at that remark.

"Adding to that, she only asked him yesterday."

Again he was feeding into the crowd and giving them the sense of urgency that Erik and Christine had felt in only waiting a day to get married.

"Each couple is unique in their story, each has lives that will go on after this day is long over." He shifted on his feet and focused on only Erik and Christine. "Fulfill God's desire and live your life for Him; in joy and in strife, in good times and bad, through sickness and in health, in times of poverty as in times of wealth – for better or for worse – forsaking all others."

He rested his gaze on Erik.

"Erik Dominik Miklos, from this day forward you are to take Christine Helena Drummond as your wife. You are to love her unconditionally; see to her needs; spiritual, physical, and mental. You are to be there for her even in life's toughest times. You are to be a father to her children and her life mate for as long as you live, until death parts you. Do you accept this calling?"

Even though his eyes were misted over with tears, Erik heard every word and his heart swelled.

"I do." His voice was strong and proud.

Opening his hand, the minister handed Erik the ring he had chosen for Christine, and Erik – with a slight tremor in his hands – placed it on her finger.

The minister nodded and turned his attention to Christine.

"Christine Helena Drummond, from this day forward, you are to take Erik Dominik Miklos as your husband. You are called to support him in life's endeavors; to lift him up out of the muck that life can create and be to him a haven of rest; to make a home filled with love, joy, and God's divine presence; to be a mother to his children and his life mate for as long as you live, until death parts you. Do you accept this calling?"

Could she even speak? Christine wasn't sure. But looking at Erik and seeing the love he had for her etched in every nuance of his face and beaming forth in his inimitable eyes, she found the words in a quiet, cracked tone.

"I do."

The minister handed Christine the ring she'd picked out for Erik and she turned to him eagerly. He again lifted trembling hands and watched with amazement as she slipped it on his finger.

Still enjoying the feel of the ring on his finger, Erik took her other hand, placed a kiss upon her knuckles, and then the melodious strands of a song began playing. As soon as Erik began singing, her tears began to fall...

"_I wanted to write you a song  
A song you could sing forever  
And I wanted to rhyme  
And to bend phrase and time  
Into something clever  
But you deserve something better_

_"If I could make all the mountains spell your name  
And all the old streetcars dance in the rain  
And promise to hold you for all my days  
It wouldn't be enough  
To show you my love_

_"I wanted to write you a verse  
Of all of the things that I love in you  
Of your beautiful smile  
And the truth in your eyes  
And the way you always knew  
That you deserved someone better_

_"If I could make all the mountains spell your name  
And all the old streetcars dance in the rain  
And promise to hold you for all my days  
It wouldn't be enough  
To show you my love_

_"And when I'm ugly  
I know you love me  
And you know all of me  
And I wouldn't wish that on anyone_

_"If I could make all the mountains spell your name  
And all the old streetcars dance in the rain  
And promise to hold you for all my days  
It wouldn't be enough  
To show you my love"_

**"To Show You My Love". Words and music by Mike Schmid; recorded by Mike Schmid on the album "The High Cost of Living; A Love Story"**

All she could do was wrap him her love; fold her arms around him and hold him for eternity.

"If there is anyone present who knows of any lawful reason why this couple should not be allowed to wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

No one dared speak. Not only would they suffer the wrath of Erik, Tony would surely reign down his own style of punishment, not to mention "Guido" and "Bruno" - the cronies he'd hired; as well as Thax. With all that muscle, no one dared speak.

"Now, with the power vested in me by God and the state of Nevada, I present to you, Mr. Erik Miklos and his bride, Christine Miklos. What God has joined, let no one put asunder."

They turned and faced the crowd, unable to focus through the haze that filled their eyes.

"You may kiss your bride."

Erik wasted no time, he longed to taste her on his tongue; longed to touch her tangibly with his hands so that his mind would register that she was actually his.

There was no need for branding. Not now. Not here. His body instantly reacted to the thought of branding her as his...soon. But now, he gently touched her lips and caressed the outer softness of them with his tongue before pulling back and smiling at her. It was all new; the world and its secrets. He had reasons now; reasons to live his life to the fullest.

۞۞۞

Tony, as was his nature, enjoyed the attention his presence warranted. He posed for pictures after the wedding and even signed a few autographs. Erik was thankful for the distraction, since it kept the media off of him. Christine just seemed happy to be at his side, which amazed him; and probably would for the rest of his life.

Although seeing the guys from the defense department was a great thing, and Erik had a wonderful time introducing Christine to them and seeing the appreciative looks they had for her, all Erik really wanted to do was get Christine alone. Not that he was particularly anxious to prove his ineptness in the sex department, but he wasn't fond of a lot of people and their staring eyes.

It was coming up on 9:00 at night and Erik was pretty certain Christine was getting hungry because he was. He had realized over the course of the last week, that Christine had somehow renewed his appetite. He'd never really been attached to food – thinking of it more as a means to an end rather than a necessity – but Christine has insisted on barging into his life and interrupting his well orchestrated schedule...not that he minded.

He spotted Peyton and Paige; they were enjoying being the center of attention along side Uncle Tony. Arrangements had been made and they would be staying with Della for the next few days here in L.A. She and Francois had decided to hang around for a while before heading back to Texas. They would be in good hands and Erik could relax and enjoy his new wife for a few days before having to face important questions such as where they would live.

Protectively and possessively winding his arm around Christine's shoulders, Erik nuzzled the top of her head and placed a kiss there. Did all women smell this good? Did they carry this natural sweetness in them that drove a man to distraction? Being a musician gave him a rather interesting insight to such things...he was pretty certain they did for men would do just about anything to possess the woman they longed for....anything. Songs had been written expressing man's desire for women and history itself was full of men who'd practically lost their sanity over a woman.

They had to have something that caused such behavior....because...the only other explanation was that men were incorrigible and incurable, testosterone driven, one-track minded libertines...that just couldn't be it. Accepting that it was just God's divine plan, he decided to just be thankful.

Erik knew that Tony would understand their leaving; he had used his influence to get a catered reception in one of the hotel's many banquet rooms. They result had been elegant and tasteful, something Erik and Christine were very pleased with. Just about everyone had stayed for the reception, but they had requested that the media not be allowed, and they hadn't been. It was a welcome change.

As he leaned against her, Erik could feel Christine lean against him; her delectable curves brushing against him provocatively, even though she probably didn't mean for it to seem that way. Erik couldn't stifle the low thunder of his throaty growl when her hip feathered across the straining front of his pants, causing his eyes to close in sweet agony as he inhaled her scent once again.

This was a whole different kind of torture; far more effective than any he'd undergone to this point. She could lay countries to ruin with just a touch or a glance, he was sure of it; for she had conquered his heart without so much as uttering a word. The story of Helen of Troy seemed to be a fine work of non-fiction as far as Erik was concerned; the face that could launch a thousand ships...indeed. A woman's beauty was a thing of legends, of sonnets and poetry. Erik would forever marvel that the most beautiful of them all loved him....HIM...it was unfathomable.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She whispered into his ear as he nuzzled her neck.

His rumbling purr vibrated down her spine and he swept his tongue sensuously over her sensitive skin. His teeth softly worked the area he'd licked, causing Christine to melt languorously against him even more.

"Don't make me wait any longer." She finally murmured. "I need you now."

Erik's head shot up, his eyes roaming the room to find Tony. He didn't have to look far as the man was headed toward them with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You two need to get out of here; I've seen porn with less touching." He teased. "Get going." Erik and Christine started to walk away, but Tony caught Erik's arm, "Would you like me to send up a video camera?"

Erik narrowed his gaze and was about to sound off a retort when Christine gently eased him toward her and pulled him to the door.

Bringing her into his embrace once again, he felt ten fee tall. "Remind me to kill him later."

"Oh no, my love, you're going to have lots of things to do...and Tony won't be one of them."

Unfortunately there were others in the elevator, or Erik would have pinned Christine against the wall and started the foreplay early; but he stood eagerly ready in the corner with Christine by his side – watching the numbers pass as the elevator went up.

Despite his physical hunger, there was another hunger raging through him that took control. Food was just going to have to wait.

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

For you...

CHAPTER 26

The entire ride up to the 62nd floor was excruciating. Erik played and replayed in his head all the things he wanted to do with Christine. He found himself surprised at the dark, torrid images that were carving themselves into the recesses of his mind. When had he become a raging, almost feral beast whose driving need was sex...and lots of it?

Squirming wasn't really helpful toward warding off the heavy, throbbing need in his groin and his efforts were only causing the other occupants of the elevator to throw fleeting looks his way. He chanced a peek at Christine, who looked for all the world like a saint. Her hands were folded demurely in front of her and her eyes remained pinned to an unspecific spot on the door in front of her. Erik was certain that if she knew the depths to which his mind had sunk, she'd forbid him to even look at her.

Good thing she had no idea.

Not that her thoughts were any less torrid. Christine couldn't even be certain that she wasn't somehow projecting mental images of her erotic thoughts into the minds of the other elevator occupants. The saucy looks she kept giving Erik could only be interpreted one way; and by the looks on a couple of faces, they were aware of what she had in mind.

Some kind of magical, electrified energy pulsed through her; an energy that could only be contributed to the man standing mere inches from her. He sang to her; not literally, not verbally; but with his body and mind. Is this what it was like to have a soul mate? It had to be; no other explanation seemed to make sense.

With a big smile and a knowing wink, the last person got off the elevator on the 61st floor, and Christine and Erik were finally alone. Holding onto their sanity for a few moments more, they waited for the final "bing" that signaled the 62nd floor and their penthouse suite. Erik had reserved the best for them, knowing the floor was isolated and boasted the best view of the city and all it's urban beauty.

The elevator door opened to reveal the "living room" of their suite, which resembled an exquisite, expensive penthouse apartment and not a hotel room. The room carried an aromatic scent of mixed flowers that sprung up in various areas all over the rooms. The large window that overlooked the city had the blinds open and the curtains pulled so that Erik and Christine were greeted by the city lights; a lovely view that added to the romantic pull of their surroundings.

"I need you." Christine heard Erik mutter.

Unable to refrain, Erik quickly lifted Christine into his arms and growled approvingly when her legs wrapped securely around his waist. His lips found the hallow of her neck and his tongue coasted sensually over the soft skin that trembled beneath his touch. His deft fingers made quick work of the zipper that secured her dress and pinning her against the wall with the strength of his pelvis, Erik removed the dress quickly and efficiently over her head. It landed gently on the floor, forgotten in for the moment.

His hot, moist tongue paved a trail to her ear, winding around it and bringing forth a moan of sheer delight from Christine. She couldn't remember ever being so swollen and throbbing for a man in her life. Her body was weeping for him to complete the act he had begun...but Erik seemed in no hurry to join their bodies, for he was busy doing wickedly wonderful things with his hands and mouth. However, he was way too over-dressed for the occasion and Christine unbuttoned his shirt quickly and pushed it off his shoulders, while he still had her pinned against the wall. She didn't remember removing his jacket, but it was mysteriously missing.

He was glorious!! All hard plains and sharp angles. His body was magnificently toned; sinewy muscles covering all the right places and dark hairs dusting the surface of his chest. Her hands gently toyed with his masculine nipples; beaded and poised just for her touch. He unfastened his lips from her neck and ground his massive erection into her throbbing core; moaning in ecstasy as her hands worked magic on his skin.

He easily removed the barrier of her bra, thrusting it from him as though it was an evil object. His dark, bottom-of-ocean eyes drank in her bare breasts only moments before he lifted her even more and suckled one hard, thrusting nipple with his eager mouth while working the other with his fingers. He was ravenous and Christine was his banquet table – spread before him with delights he'd never experienced before.

Christine was on fire. Every inch of skin he touched was tingling. He had literally lifted her off the floor and held her against the wall; unable to part himself from her long enough to make his way to the bed. He was strong and virile; the toned muscles of his arms engorging as he propped her against the wall and drank of her breasts; nothing had ever been so raw and yet so sensual.

Without a word, he carried her to the bed, still fully clothed from the waist down, and gently placed her on the edge. She leaned back on her elbows and gave him a long, approving sweep with her eyes. His hair was gloriously mused, dark and indulgent against his the tanned expanse of his broad shoulders. He was everything she had dreamed he would be and more.

"The pants, Lover...remove them." She said, a sultry, feminine growl to her voice.

So this was how she wanted to play this scene out....him being the submissive....he could _so_ do that.

"As you wish, mistress." He murmured, his gaze never leaving her.

With nimble, strong fingers, Erik worked the belt out of the loops and slowly lowered the zipper; revealing a pair of black, silk boxer shorts. With hesitancy she did not understand, Erik lowered the pants to his ankles, then stepped out of them. Fear jumped in the deep, mossy green of his eyes; and the reason suddenly became painfully obvious to her.

A gnarled scar marred the flesh of his thigh, winding down from his inner thigh towards his knee and then tapering upward again. Christine pushed the tears away that lingered at the edge of her lashes, threatening to spill over. Erik did not want her pity...although that was not what she was feeling at that moment. Righteous indignation and downright fury at the people who had done this to him...and a desperate need to make them pay in some way, despite the years that had passed.

She slid off the bed onto the floor, crawling on her hands and knees the short distance to where he stood. He didn't move, but she could see him tense as she approached. Petite, warm hands caressed the flesh of his leg, finally coming to pause on the puckered mess that was his thigh. Her fingers traced the heaviest mark, and then her lips were trailing the same path as her fingers had...and Erik felt his knees give out.

"How can you bear to touch me...I'm hideous?" He whispered, shock filling each syllable.

"You're beautiful Erik...every inch of you and I will know every inch of you intimately before this night is over."

His engorged cock was thrumming with life as she continued to minister to his thigh. Finally, she reached for the waist of the shorts and, kneeling in front of him, lowered them. His hands found the heavy drop of her hair and wound their way into it, lost in the softness. He moaned loudly as his erection was exposed to her, proudly jutting upright, moisture pooling at the head.

Part of him wanted to hide his arousal from her, fearing she would shun his interest and shut him down again...locked away inside his own mind. But the moment her hand wrapped around his girth, Erik thought no more of hiding...he could barely think of anything but the pleasure she was giving him.

"On the bed...I want you under me." Christine ordered, loving that he didn't seem to mind her control at the moment.

Erik, mindless to all but her voice, did as she told him; leaning back and propping his head against the pillows to watch whatever it she was going to do. His mind was racing; the dark demons that had owned him for so long still whispered doubts in his mind. He knew he was damaged; scarred inside and out by the life he had lived; a life littered with violence and bad decisions. But when she pulled his gaze toward her with invisible strings, all Erik could see banked in her eyes was love boldly staring his demons in the face.

Gracious! He looked like a Greek god lying there awaiting his pleasure. His magnificent staff throbbed with life, practically beckoning her with a voice of its own. His arms were folded behind his head, the position emphasizing the taut, toned muscles that rippled over them and the tapered, scarred beauty of his chest and waist. Briefly, she wondered about the cause of such marks, but the cruelty of Erik's past was almost too much for her to handle most of the time, so she let it rest, choosing to focus on other things.

His manhood was as impressive as the rest of him; uncut, long, and pleasantly wide, it thrust upward, ready to give her whatever she asked of it. His eyes were at half-mast, watching her lick her way up his thigh and once again caress the scars that she new caused him great mental anguish; if for no other reason than that they existed.

Finally, she circled his hardness once again, this time with both hands. He jerked beneath her, the shock of her touch once against staggering him. His deep, lustful moans fired her own arousal, and she answered him with a guttural, carnal purr of her own. Nothing had ever felt so divine; nothing had ever wracked his body with such awareness; but her small, adept hands made him feel like more of a man than he'd ever felt.

"Do you like?"

All Erik could manage for a response was a single nod of his head...his voice having left him at some point. Christine granted him a wicked smile and moved closer to him, her hair whispering soft tendrils over his thighs. His hips began a slow pumping motion, working her hands over him more thoroughly. He must have died and somehow found himself in heaven...that was the only explanation for the pleasure that was spreading through him.

Entranced by the vision of her pleasuring him, Erik watched with a heated gaze. When her eyes lifted to his and a sly, lascivious smile curled her lips, Erik's wondered only for a moment what she was thinking...and then her lips slid over his length. His eyes shot wide open and his body jerked – forcing him further into her greedy mouth.

"Christine!!"

He growled her name, the force of his desire riding that sound as she hungrily took every inch of him that she could handle. He was literally trembling from the force he was exerting; the force that kept him from reaching his climax before he'd even tasted her. At the rate she was going, he'd be spent in no time.

He ground out another growl and wrenched himself out from beneath her. Reaching down, Erik pulled her under him in one, swift move; claiming her mouth in a hard, wild kiss that left little doubt as to where his thoughts were. His tongue swept over hers, owning every moan he pulled from her; demanding and controlling.

"Were you trying to kill me?" He asked her before sweeping down and roughly pulling a beaded nipple into his mouth, forcing a ragged moan from her.

His hand manipulated her other breast, rolling and pinching the peak between his finger and thumb; drawing another raw groan from her. Judging by her response, she was enjoying the roughness of his touch and the slightly feral way he was handling her, she was writhing beneath him...and he took that as a good sign.

Erik kissed his way down her softly rounded tummy, teasing the belly button with his tongue, before turning her onto her stomach. His eyes found the tattoo nestled against the small of her back and he put his tongue to the lines, tracing it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed. He'd fantasized about that tattoo many times over the last few hours, not understanding his own desires; all he knew was that he had to touch it.

Nuzzling her bottom with his cheek, he wound his tongue around the delicate artwork, enjoying the way Christine purred beneath his ministrations. She felt so good, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. A misty sheen covered her skin, the result of her excitement, and she smelled of musky arousal, hot summer nights, and rare jewels. Somewhere between the wedding and this very moment, the beautiful woman he'd married had become the sexually masterful woman all men dreamed about. She was a siren in his arms. A wanton vixen with only one thing on her mind.

His surrender.

His surrender to her complete power over him. His surrender to the needs of his desire. His surrender to what that moment held for him, and for them both. A surrender he gladly gave. No questions asked.

His hands molded and massaged the sloped mounds of her bottom, squeezing them while he continued to enjoy the tattoo. After he'd taken a few minutes and traced it several times, he allowed her to slowly turn over onto her back. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, resting her legs over his shoulders for his viewing pleasure.

Her body's reaction to him amazed him; that he could make her body weep for his touch and cause her to beg for his mouth to take her...it captured him like nothing ever had. Not wanting to be rough with her anymore, Erik opened her to his starving eyes. He knew the basics of a woman's body...new the small, inflamed bud standing at attention held a powerhouse of pleasure for her; but he wasn't through with the teasing, not yet.

Anticipating his touch, Christine's breath was caught in her throat, awaiting his command to once again grant her air. When his long, tapered fingers opened her like the petals of a rose, Christine pulled the sheets into her fisted hands and bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming in pleasure. His touch was both tender and torturous; divine and deadly, bringing her to the edge in a matter of minutes.

Acting on a predatory instinct he hadn't known he possessed, Erik delved into her ruddy softness, entering her with two fingers, enjoying and memorizing the feel and scent of her. Christine supported herself on one elbow, watching him pleasure her with his fingers, but wanting and needing so much more.

As if reading her mind, and unable to resist any longer, Erik put his mouth to her. His hot, searing tongue swept the taste of her into his blood, marking her. Branding her. How he had survived all these years and never had a woman was beyond him...she was a drug to him now, something he could never be without.

Laving and lapping at her, Erik finally pulled the rigid nub into his mouth, strumming it with his tongue in quick, tactical strokes. Working in unison, his fingers penetrated while his mouth and tongue bathed her. Beneath him, Christine undulated, pulsing against him in an erotic dance that had his blood boiling and his body ridiculously hard. Her moans were growing louder and longer, her body arching against the efforts of his mouth and hands.

She wrapped her fingers into his dark, inky hair and held him, pressing him against her even more as she cried out in her first climax of the night. Erik rode out that orgasm, fluttering over her and taking all that she gave him, eager to bury himself deep within her plush, pliant body.

As the spasms calmed, Christine's serenely satisfied eyes found his and she smiled, a dreamy flush coloring her cheeks as she did so. She watched eagerly as Erik worked his way back up her body, trailing kisses and licking his way up to her mouth, claiming it as tenderly as he had coaxed her into orgasm only moments before.

His rigid cock was perched at her opening, as if awaiting a royal invitation to enter, and with one quick thrust, he did just that. Stretching her to accommodate him and finding himself buried to the hilt, Erik paused only long enough to savor the warm haven she created around him; his place of healing, before grinding into her mercilessly; stabbing her fiercely...wonderfully.

_I'm home._

That was the thought that tickled Erik's mind when he nestled himself between her legs and claimed her body for the first time. Knowing he wouldn't be able to last as long as a man with experience, Erik tried to control the driving force that urged him to race toward the ultimate completion...he was determined to take her with him when he came.

_Tight. Gloriously tight. Perfect._

Erik whispered in his mind...holding onto the restraint he'd practiced for years. He settled there, her legs tightly circling his waist, and gave himself a moment before plunging into her with strong, gliding thrusts. Unable to hold back and longer, Erik pulled out and lunged into her again, forcing whimpered moans from her as he did so.

Feeling a hot tightening in his groin, Erik knew he would shoot any moment. Pulling her legs in front of him and then laying them over his shoulders, Erik sank even deeper into her, releasing a groan of pure pleasure at the feel of it. He would have been able to hold out for another minute or two, but Christine pulsed around him, her orgasm grabbing him, engulfing him, and bringing his with it.

Spent, satisfied, and totally sated; Erik and Christine came down from their simultaneous peaks and stayed entwined, their bodies still thrumming from the aftershocks. It had been an earth moving experience for both of them.

"I love you." Christine whispered, just a hint of tears sparking in her eyes.

Erik kissed her forehead before pulling her over to rest atop him, her body molding perfectly against his. He couldn't help but notice her full breasts jostling in front him as she rubbed against him provocatively. He felt the passion building again, although he knew it would be a little while before his body would comply; but that didn't mean he couldn't do a little playing.

"I love you, too..." Erik replied, grinning up at her as his eyes lit up with a fire from within, "...and I'll prove it to you again and again before his night is over."

And he did just that.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

Only one more after this one. Enjoy.

A little extra for you in this one and the next one...if you follow Marvel comics at all...

...at the behest of my Beta, I have changed a few things. She has called me on the fact that Spider-man and the X-men do not openly state who they are and let the world in on their secret.

So I have altered a few things...

CHAPTER 27 - updated...

It was long past the first light of morning before anyone stirred in the honeymoon suite. Life in Las Vegas was thriving loudly and boisterously down on ground level and all around them, but Erik and Christine finally ordered breakfast at 11:30 in the morning. After kissing his wife thoroughly, Erik headed to take a shower.

"Care to join me?" Erik's low, sensual voice beckoned from the backroom.

Christine was tempted. Very tempted. The man had caused a delightful ache in her vaginal muscles and other places last night...but Christine couldn't stop the anticipation that filled her as she thought about making love to him in the shower.

He was already in the shower when she caught sight of him; her eyes drinking in the sight with a slow, deliberate scan from head to toe. His head was bowed beneath the jetting streams – his inky waves framing the outline of his scarred features – and his arms were against the tiled wall as though anticipating a cavity search. The spray from the water was sliding provocatively down the hard, sculpted plane of his back, and it didn't require very much imagination for Christine to feel that hot, smooth skin beneath her tongue, the salty taste of him blooming in her mouth.

Erik relaxed against the shower wall, enjoying the feel of the water over his sensitive skin. He'd never felt so alive before, every nerve ending still stimulated by the touch of Christine's body. He felt like shouting at the top of his lungs, announcing to the world that he was finally free of the heavy weight of his own inadequacies. Not that it mattered to the world, but it mattered to him.

He was missing her, thinking how ridiculous that was, when he felt soft, hands spray across his back..

"Don't move." She whispered, her nails gently grazing his flesh. "Don't even think about it."

He was as hard as granite in an instant, the sweet torture of her hands on him and the gravely sensuality of her voice being his undoing. He didn't move a muscle as she reached around him for the body wash and squeezed a generous portion into her open palm. He still hadn't seen her face, her hands being the only part of her that she'd allowed him to view.

Her hands disappeared behind him and the next thing he felt was the warmth of her touch probing the slit of his backside. She cleansed him with her hands, probing his body with her small fingers and causing a whimpered moan to roll out of him. Knowing the anus to be one of the most erogenous areas on a man's body, Christine kept one hand there while bringing the other around to cup the twin globes that hung low and heavy between his legs.

He was trembling against her, powerful proof of his arousal. His testes were full; tight and bulging, awaiting the chance to burst his seed from his body. She gripped the long, hard length of him, massaging him from base to crown with steady, firm strokes. She could feel him harden even more in her hand, and she smiled against his back, her teeth nibbling upon the puckered flesh of one of his numerous scars.

"You may turn around now." She whispered.

Erik slowly turned around, her hands supporting him at the hips as he did so. His stiff rod stood proudly between them, the ruddy head of it brushing the downy flesh of her abdomen. She gripped him once again; watching his eyes flutter shut as she began the strokes again. She leaned in and circled his taut, manly nipple with her tongue and then gently grazed it with her teeth. He drew a hissing breath and swallowed deeply before thrusting a hand through his hair and opening his eyes.

Now that she had his full attention, Christine threw him a coquettish smirk before sinking to her knees. Under the guise of washing his thighs, Christine again kissed his marred flesh, tears still stinging the backs of her eyes as she traced the scar with her tongue. Every inch of him probably told another story of abuse, torture, or neglect; stories that Christine knew she would not be able to stomach. But here, in the sultry surroundings of the shower, she adored those scars, thankful that the he was no longer a victim to such horrors.

Erik wound his hands into the wet fall of her hair, wrapping it into a tail and pulling it over her shoulder to afford him a better view of her mouth on him. It was the sexiest picture he'd ever seen; her naked, wet body on her knees in front of him. His cock throbbed painfully, missing the feel of her hands upon it.

Her nails softly skidded over him, creating a titillating sensation that dangled somewhere between pleasure and pain, but had his body crying out for more. Moving them upward, she tenderly cupped his sacks once more before sucking his burgeoning erection into her mouth. Gripping the rope of hair he'd placed over her shoulder, Erik cupped his hand around her head and rammed into her mouth with gentle force.

His breathing was deep and labored as she continued to work the length of him, her tongue teasing the pulsing head before tracing the bulging vein that pulsed beneath the silky softness of his skin. He rode her hands and mouth; low, feral growls echoing in his throat. He was close. So close.

Wanting him sheathed deep within her when he spilled himself, Christine gave one last stroke before standing and presenting her back to him. She braced her hands on the handrail, bent over, and offered her butt to him...and Erik wasted no time wrapping his hand around his straining cock, teasing the very spot that ached for him.

She moaned as he slowly worked his length into her from behind, marveling at the exquisite feel of him filling her to the very core of her womb. Lifting her hips, cradling her thighs on his forearms, Erik literally held her off the floor and plunged deep, caressing her walls. Slow and meticulous at first, he loved how she responded to him, but this was all still too new to Erik for him to last very long. Wrapping his arms around her and taking both breasts as leverage, his hips drilled her powerfully, smacking against her backside with such force that she was going to have red marks there as though he had spanked her.

Christine ground her hips in response, the motion increasing as she quickly spiraled toward her climax; finally spilling over the edge and screaming in rapture, Erik followed her with the most powerful orgasm he'd experienced so far...and both rode it out for a few moments before coming back to reality.

"This isn't getting our breakfast eaten." Christine giggled, as Erik nuzzled her neck and licked at her ear.

"True." He agreed, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth.

"Erik....feed me." Christine teased, turning in his arms before he could begin the process all over again.

He dutifully took his hands off her and tried to look sullen and pouty. When that didn't work, he turned to seductive and bold. However, in the end, they left the shower, dressed and ate the wonderful spread of food that had been left while they played in the shower.

۞۞۞

They spent the next three days enjoying the sights and sounds of Vegas, but mostly enjoying just being together. Vegas was indeed a small city with big city feel, and everywhere one turned there was something happening.

The papers were still focused on the "Ironman" issue, loving the fact that Tony Stark had deemed the city worthy enough of his revered presence. Reading the paper each morning managed to bring tears of humor to Erik's eyes just about every time; every woman wanted him and every man wanted to be him...how typical.

Night was settling over the city and Erik and Christine sat on the balcony of their hotel room, enjoying their last night in the city. Stars blinked overhead, the lights of the city barely interfering with the symphony of heavenly lights. Spring was on its way in San Antonio, but Vegas seemed to have already advanced into that season, bringing a new surge of life to the world around them.

Christine was curled up on Erik's lap, nuzzling his neck and breathing in the fresh, manly smell of him. His fingers lightly skimmed her arm, shoulder to elbow, lulling her into a state of bliss with his gentleness.

"There's something I need to ask you."

Christine lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him, "Sounds serious."

"Not really, just an offer that I need to share with you." He shrugged.

Giving him her full attention, Christine remained in his lap, enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

"Tony introduced me to a man named Nick Fury, he's the head S.H.I.E.L.D. He talked to me about being a part of the organization, probably in the intervention or logistics division."

Frowning, Christine shifted against him, "What is this S.H.I.E.L.D....and why does the thought of you being involved with it in any way terrify me?"

"It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. As for it terrifying you, it shouldn't because I wouldn't actually be in the field, I'd be behind a desk, on a computer, designing and thinking up ways to keep the agents safe and educated on matters concerning national security."

She thought for a moment; all the ways he could get pulled in to doing more going through her mind in quick array – but she kept her concerns to herself, "Does this seem like something you want to do?"

Erik gently rested his lips on her forehead, reassuring her with the simplicity of his touch, "I think I could do some good...and Mr. Fury already said that I wouldn't have to leave Texas, or my home, for that matter. I can work from home – wherever that may end up being."

Christine liked the sound of that. Having Erik around her was the most important thing to her. He had already retired from his government contracting and was going to begin focusing on his music more. But she wanted him to feel productive in whatever way was best for him.

She sighed against him, wrapping her arms even more around him and giving him a gentle squeeze. "You really want to do this, don't you?"

He nodded.

"I think you should." Christine finally agreed, not wanting to keep him from something that he obviously felt strongly about. "Would it be okay for you and the children to move to Dallas...I can't really run my business from a distance?"

He'd already determined that he would be the one to relocate, it was just the logical decision. He knew her obligations to her company were many and varied, and that she could not just abandon something she had worked so hard at over the years.

"I had already come to that conclusion and was going to let you know when we got back to Texas."

"You don't mind?"

Erik smiled broadly at her shy insistence, she thought he would be upset.

"I certainly do not mind....and the children will be happy."

She relaxed against him again, humming quietly to herself, enjoying the cool breeze that swept over them.

Erik debated the next discussion. Was it necessary? Did he have to let her know? It had occurred to him sometime during the last day or so, that he had failed to mention Raoul's appearance at his door. For some unknown reason, it has slipped his mind until a few hours ago.

"I guess I should tell you that Raoul came by my house the night I was leaving to go to Los Angeles. He was drunk and spiteful, looking for you."

Christine looked up at him again, her eyes full of wicked humor, "What did you do, land him a good one right in the his nose?"

"No..." Erik chuckled, "...I sent him to a hotel in a Taxi. Tony helped. It was all quite civil."

He felt her chuckle to herself . "Kudos to you..." she admitted, "...because I would have planted a good one in the most vulnerable spot that I could reach."

Erik cringed, knowing perfectly well to what area she was referring. "He was perfectly pitiful, for the most part. Some wayward part of me actually felt sorry for him." Christine lifted a brow and frowned up at him, "I mean, the man lost you....that alone would be enough to send me into the darkest pits of depression."

"Well...." she paused, "...he deserves that and more."

It was Erik's turn to chuckle, "My, my....remind me not to ever make you mad."

She playfully poked him in the chest, "And don't you forget it."

They passed the next couple of hours just enjoying each others company, discussing everything from Tony and his silly exploits, as well as the serious efforts he made toward homeland and world peace. Erik expressed how much he wanted to be a part of it, but didn't want to do the "super hero" thing. He preferred to be behind the scenes doing whatever he could to help.

"That's okay, I don't think I could handle standing on the sidelines watching you do what he does, or any of the others for that matter. I can't imagine being the woman in love with Spider-Man or any of those men and not having gray hair and ulcers."

Erik grunted his agreement and chuckled, "Yes, If you were a member of the X-Men or Fantastic Four, there would be no way I could keep my sanity....I would have to lock you up."

Christine lifted his hand, studying the intricate veins and various patterns that dotted it. Long-fingered and dusted with fine, black hair, his hands were instruments of great joy...musically, technically, and physically. She traced the palm and fingers lightly with her own fingers, knowing the palm was another erogenous zone that people tended to overlook.

"Would there be handcuffs involved?" She teased with a flirty smile. "Or a blindfold...that would be acceptable to."

Erik pulled back and looked her straight in the eye, humor and pride warring for dominance in his gaze, "You, my dear, are shameless."

"You bet I am. When it comes to you, I have no inhibitions."

And he couldn't have been happier about that. They were still on the balcony, the moon glowing in the night sky and the stars winking down at them. Christine was still resting against him on the chaise lounger, enjoying the beat of his heart beneath her hands.

Without missing a beat, she parted the folds of his robe, exposing the glorious flesh beneath. Even before she glided her tongue over the tight buds of his pecs, she could feel his body stir to life, ready to give her the ride of her life.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

We have arrived at the end of this story. I hope you have enjoyed it.

I want to thank my Beta - Mlle. Fox - for all her suggestions and subtle criticisms that make me a better writer through each story...I fail to send her all the chapters, but she does her best to work through my failures.

Mlle. Fox practically wrote a part of this chapter, which will be indicated by *********** before and after the part she helped on.

Thank you again....until next time.

CHAPTER 28

Home. Just saying or hearing the word conjured up all sorts of fond, warm-fuzzy kind of feelings. Norman Rockwell captured it perfectly in his paintings; the ideal family, seemingly penniless but rich in love and essentials. Erik poured over this and many other things as Paige dozed against him on the airplane. Somewhere within the first thirty minutes of the flight home, she had crawled up into this lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and fallen fast asleep.

Christine and Peyton were in the seats across the aisle. Peyton had his head in Christine's lap and she toyed gently with the blond hair upon his head, tenderly gliding her fingers over his forehead as any mother would do for a sleeping child.

Something tight formed in his chest; a feeling of complete and utter contentment and joy. The same feeling had crept up on him several times over the last couple of days. Odd times. Times that he had thought to never experience. And yet, here he was, watching the woman he loved cradle their adoptive children against her as if she had borne them herself.

That thought brought to the forefront of his mind the image of her heavy with his child. He could see it as clear as day; her hands caressing the swollen mound of her abdomen. Lovingly, joyfully anticipating the birth of their child and not caring that she had given herself to a man like him. She loved him. Loved his touch. Loved his kiss.

She. Loved. Him.

Him.

Of all the men in all the world, she loved him. How could he ask for more? God had truly blessed him; after what had seemed like an eternity of silence and loneliness, God had shown Himself to Erik in a way that could not be ignored.

And the reality of that staggered him. All that time, all those years, God had been there. Watching. Waiting. And Erik had ignored Him. Choosing to wallow in self-pity and hatred; focusing on the negative aspects of his life rather than be thankful that he had survived cruelty beyond what most people will ever know; seen more inhumane behavior coming from supposedly civilized people than most folks would ever believe.

He'd been silent and unmoved for too long. God, the Hound of Heaven, had found him.

There, surrounded by every other passenger on the plane, Erik caught Christine gaze and held it. They shared a moment...one of those moments that one normally hears about but never experiences for themselves. He literally felt her love for him pass through the space between them and touch him.

Alive. That's how he felt now. Alive and happy.

۞۞۞

Della and Francois had been back for a couple of days now, having left Vegas the day after the wedding. Erik had thought they might get the marriage bug and tie the knot while there, but they hadn't. Francois wanted to give them more time and allow his son a little more time to get used to the idea. It would uproot him more than either Francois or Della, and they just wanted to make sure he was going to be able to cope with it.

Erik got that...he really did. Jacque was at an impressionable age and friends were very important to him. Taking him from the school he currently attended and moving to a different one would be quite traumatizing.

As they pulled into the garage, Erik saw that the lights were on and knew they were still awake. Christine and children tried to help him get the luggage.

"Leave it, I'll get it later." He assured them. "Let's go see Della, Francois, and Jacque."

Erik was anxious to see them, even though it had only been a few days. He was a new man and he wanted to give Della the chance to rejoice in that. She had never given up on him, no matter how easy he had made it for her to do so.

*******

His hand was almost covering the door knob when the door flew open to reveal a panicked Della. Her face held such stark terror that Erik readied himself for some encounter with whoever or whatever was causing such a reaction in her.

"Erik...it's Tony!"

"What about him?" Erik asked, relaxing only sightly, but growing concerned. The sincerity of her fear caused him to brace himself for whatever news was to come.

"It's all over the news! He's in downtown Manhattan fighting some...giant robot!" Della cried, pointing trembling fingers in the general direction of the television.

"What?!" Erik said rushing inside. Christine followed, musing to herself that before Erik and Tony came into her life, robots never entered her daily conversations. She found everyone in the study where they watched the flat screen TV. The news report showed destruction and devastation on the city streets.

Christine was shaken to the core. It was like 9/11 all over again. The camera work was shaky as the brave reporter said of the action behind him,

"If you're just tuning in, billionaire industrialist Tony Stark, aka Ironman, is fighting a strange robot that landed in the city streets of Manhattan just moments ago. So far he has seemed to out maneuver the robot who seems a bit sluggish and slow. But it does have a deadly laser beam on it. We are trying to stay out of the range of the beam, but we are unable to determine just how far that range is."

"Go get 'em Uncle Tony!" Peyton cheered while Paige watched through her fingers.

"Della take the children upstairs." Erik ordered while pulling out his cell phone. He scanned through his contacts searching for the right name.

"Ahh! But Daddy..." whined Peyton.

"Do as your father says children." Christine told them gently. They begrudgingly went upstairs, while Erik muttered more to himself.

"He's going to send me to an early grave!"

"Who are you calling? Pepper?" asked Christine, fighting the urge to bite her nails in worry.

"No...The idiot in the iron suit!" Erik growled, glaring at the red and gold armor clad figure on the screen.

He turned from the scene on the screen and began pacing the length of the room, holding the phone to his ear.

"I don't think that thing has pockets darling." Christine said with a shaky giggle, watching as the Fantastic Four joined in on the action.

"He built a connection from his cell phone to inside the helmet." Erik explained listening to the phone ringing.

"Oh...that makes...sense." Christine mumbled, nervously watching Tony hit the machine with a repulser ray, while the Thing ripped off one of the robots arms.

Just about to give up on getting through, Erik finally heard Tony's voice answer with a grunt, _"I'm a little busy right now Fury!" _

"Stark, it's Erik." Erik shouted, unaware that the children had snuck back down the stairs and were listening to the entire one-sided conversation from the stairs while Della once again stood anxiously in front of the television. He pushed the speaker phone button on his phone and everyone could hear the conversation.

_"Oh hi Don Juan! How was the honeymoon?" _ He paused to shoot another repulser ray and then was back on the line. _"Shouldn't you be ravishing your lovely wife right about now?"_ He asked with just a hint of strain to his normally cheeky tone.

Erik glanced at Christine, who absolutely needed ravishing right then, "I was planning on it, but when I got home I heard a certain superhero was on CNN!" Erik said with sarcasm lacing his voice.

_"I didn't know you knew Spiderman."_ Tony joked.

Just as he said it, Erik and Christine watched the aforementioned webslinger catch a falling Mr. Fantastic mid-fall. It was like watching a movie and knowing the actors personally and both of their hearts were pounding frantically.

"I'm talking about you! You...you..." Erik said trying to disguise the fear in his voice by searching for a good zinger.

_"Look Erik, I know you're worried."_ His tone was suddenly very serious. _"I know Christine, the kids, Della, Pepper, and everyone else I know and love are bouncing off the walls with worry." _He sighed loudly, weariness beginning to sound in his voice, _"But I have to do this. This mission is what I have to focus on now. And I can't do that if I'm on the phone with you. Now when I'm done I'll call you and let you know how I am."_

It was the most serious Erik had ever heard his friend sound in all the years he had known him.

"Just be careful." Erik said with a sigh, finally allowing his friend to hear the concern and love in his voice

"_No problem. Maybe I'll fly over so you can berate me in person. I'll even see if the Human Torch will come with me so the kids can meet him. Or at least I'll get autographs. Spidey will definitely do it, he's a good kid..."_

Erik heard a small voice exclaim, "Yes!!" from the hallway and he walked toward it, finding the children looking on in wonder. He lifted a brow and pointed back up the stairs, expecting them to obey without question.

Tony was rambling on and on about this and that, not getting off the phone like he had indicated he was going to, when Erik happened to see something that caught his attention.

"Tony watch out!" Erik screamed into the phone, his eyes glued to the television as he watched a laser beam headed straight towards Tony. Tony flew up in the air, just missing the laser beam by seconds. He threw a repulser beam at the robot's head, knocking the thing backwards.

_"I better go. I think the X-men just showed up and I wouldn't want Wolverine to have all the fun." _

"Please be careful!" Erik said as Christine clutched his arm, watching a man in a black leather suit with claws on his hands rip into the robot's back.

_"Just take care of your family Erik. I'll see you soon."_ Tony said.

"You better." Erik said before Tony hung up.

********

There was an air of reflection as everyone considered what was going on while they rested comfortably in their warm house. Erik closed his phone and slid it back in his pocket, his eyes immediately going to the concerned features of his wife.

"I see what you mean...I wouldn't want to put you through his every time I went on a mission. I am so glad I'm not superhero material."

"You are my love, you're my superhero and the hero to your family. That's all that matters."

Erik nodded in understanding. Now, more than ever, he knew he had to be a part of what Tony did, if only to make sure the man had whatever he needed to stay safe and focused in whatever mission S.H.I.E.L.D. had for him. It was the least Erik could do to make up for the years of agony he'd caused Tony over the years. And not just Tony, but Della and Thax as well.

His phone rang again and Erik felt a wave of dread wash over him. Thankfully, when he glanced at the number he knew is was Thax.

"_Have you seen that crazy man in the iron suit...have you seen what he's doing?"_

"Yeah, I just got off the phone with him."

Thax was in a near panic of his own. He and Tony weren't as close as Erik and Tony were, but Thax loved the guy too...they were as good as brothers.

"_Wow...I've never actually seen the X-Men in action...it's something to watch." _There was wonder in Thax's tone, _"That Storm is sure a sight to see, isn't she?"_

"Tony, Thax..." Erik reminded his friend, "...we were discussing him I don't think Isis would care for you ogling another woman." It frustrated Erik to no end. It was Thax's one down fall, he had a wandering eye. Thankfully, he never strayed.

"_Yeah...ahhh....is he going to be okay?" _

Oddly, Erik knew that he would be. "Yeah, he'll be fine. Tony's the best at what he does."

Thax agreed and hung up the phone.

They continued to watch the antics displayed on the television screen in wonder and awe. Erik had reluctantly agreed to allow Peyton and Paige to stay up. They were enchanted by the gathering of the worlds superheros coming together to conquer this one enemy.

Erik knew it was the just the beginning of a new order in the world. Maybe, just maybe, they could accomplish peace someplace in the world; dethrone the tyrants that thought to usurp any sort of democracy and freedom the peoples of the world deserved.

And he would be a part of it, in whatever way he could be. He would make sure he made the world a safer place for his children, his wife, and every freedom seeking, law-abiding citizen on the planet.

He looked toward the heavens, "Give me whatever You think I need to do this service, Lord. I only want to be useful....use me."

And He did.

The end.


End file.
